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diff --git a/3028-h/3028-h.htm b/3028-h/3028-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5116749 --- /dev/null +++ b/3028-h/3028-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7274 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Peterkin Papers + +Author: Lucretia P. Hale + +Release Date: October 27, 2009 [EBook #3028] +Last Updated: November 7, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS AN ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25648"> +[# 25648 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE PETERKIN PAPERS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Lucretia P. Hale + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + Dedicated + </p> + <p> + To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) + </p> + <p> + To Whom These Stories Were First Told + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin + Papers </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN + BOSTON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + </h2> + <p> + THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for the + “Young Folks.” They were afterwards continued in numbers of the “St. + Nicholas.” + </p> + <p> + A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never + before been published, “The Peterkins at the Farm.” + </p> + <p> + It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about + publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter + to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she might + happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, and + everybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, and help + it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and all her + servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take so + long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could they + get the whole subject on a postal? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but one + question:— + </p> + <p> + Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + </p> + <p> + This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family to sign, + the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of their + india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to the + post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day, and + all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers on postals + and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady from + Philadelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been read by + their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it must have + been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals and + letters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in the + same tone: “Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family.” + </p> + <p> + “Publish them, of course.” + </p> + <p> + And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:—“Yes, of + course; publish them.” + </p> + <p> + This is why they were published. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. + </h2> + <p> + THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious + cup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found + she had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? + Of course she couldn’t drink the coffee; so she called in the family, for + she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in; they + all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and all sat down + to think. + </p> + <p> + At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, “Why don’t we go over + and ask the advice of the chemist?” (For the chemist lived over the way, + and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, “Yes,” and Mr. Peterkin + said, “Very well,” and all the children said they would go too. So the + little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went. + </p> + <p> + Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turn + everything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle into + which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuable things, + and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost found what he + wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now he had used up + all the gold that he had round the house, and gold was high. He had used + up his wife’s gold thimble and his great-grandfather’s gold-bowed + spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of his + great-great-grandfather’s cane; and, just as the Peterkin family came in, + he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him have her + wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knew he + should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; and then + she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeralds and + rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into the finest + of gold. + </p> + <p> + Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in. You + can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing his crucible—that + was the name of his melting-pot—at their heads. But he didn’t. He + listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs. Peterkin had put + salt in her coffee. + </p> + <p> + At first he said he couldn’t do anything about it; but when Agamemnon said + they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up his bottles in a + leather case, and went back with them all. + </p> + <p> + First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a + little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it + tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. But + Mrs. Peterkin didn’t like that. Then he added some tartaric acid and some + hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. “I have it!” exclaimed + the chemist,—“a little ammonia is just the thing!” No, it wasn’t the + thing at all. + </p> + <p> + Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric, + chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic, + nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and said + the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then he + tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clear + bitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. This + gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist + was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some + granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing + off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not satisfied. + </p> + <p> + The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the salt. + The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed. Perhaps + a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all the time he + could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all much obliged + to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold was now 2.69 3/4, + so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave Agamemnon a pretty + little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there was the coffee! All + sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Why don’t we go to the + herb-woman?” Elizabeth Eliza was the only daughter. She was named after + her two aunts,—Elizabeth, from the sister of her father; Eliza, from + her mother’s sister. Now, the herb-woman was an old woman who came round + to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They all shouted with joy at the + idea of asking her, and Solomon John and the younger children agreed to go + and find her too. The herb-woman lived down at the very end of the street; + so the boys put on their india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It + was a long walk through the village, but they came at last to the + herb-woman’s house, at the foot of a high hill. They went through her + little garden. Here she had marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and + tall sunflowers, and all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air + was full of tansy-tea and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and + a brandy-cherry tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung + its delicious fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, + which smelt very spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and + peppermint, and all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the + ceiling; and on the shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the + like. + </p> + <p> + But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to get + some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow her,—Elizabeth + Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to climb up over high + rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black berry-vines. But the + little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last they discovered the + little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was steeple-crowned, + without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel round a sassafras + bush. They told her their story,—-how their mother had put salt in + her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead of better, and + how their mother couldn’t drink it, and wouldn’t she come and see what she + could do? And she said she would, and took up her little old apron, with + pockets all round, all filled with everlasting and pennyroyal, and went + back to her house. + </p> + <p> + There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all the kinds + of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seed and dill, + spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil and rosemary, + wild thyme and some of the other time,—-such as you have in clocks,—sappermint + and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, there isn’t a kind of + herb you can think of that the little old woman didn’t have done up in her + little paper bags, that had all been dried in her little Dutch-oven. She + packed these all up, and then went back with the children, taking her + stick. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, and + began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop for + the bitter. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then she + tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, and some + caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoram and + sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint and peppermint, + some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, some tansy and basil, + and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, and pennyroyal. The + children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadful faces. Mrs. + Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old woman stirred, and the + more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + </p> + <p> + So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and said she + must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up her packets + of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick, and went + back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in the air and half + out. And all she would take for pay was five cents in currency. + </p> + <p> + Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while. It + was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn’t had her cup of + coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, “They say that the lady from + Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and ask + her what is best to be done.” To this they all agreed, it was a great + thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + </p> + <p> + She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,—how her mother + had put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he + tried everything but could make it no better; and how they went for the + little old herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother + couldn’t drink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very + attentively, and then said, “Why doesn’t your mother make a fresh cup of + coffee?” Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finished his + sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. “Why didn’t we think of + that?” said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to their mother, and + she had her cup of coffee. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. + </h2> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of + the postmaster’s daughter. + </p> + <p> + They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and + the carters brought it in, and went away. + </p> + <p> + After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but they + found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the middle of + the room, standing close against the window. + </p> + <p> + How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play + upon it? + </p> + <p> + Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which Agamemnon + could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon the + piazza, and open the piano. Then she could have her music-stool on the + piazza, and play upon the piano there. + </p> + <p> + So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to see + Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the piazza, with + the honeysuckle vines behind her. + </p> + <p> + It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked to take + a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family liked to sit on + the piazza. + </p> + <p> + So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + </p> + <p> + All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall came, Mr. + Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open window, and the family + did not want to sit out on the piazza. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was + obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so. + </p> + <p> + One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, she spoke + of this trouble. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, “But why don’t + you turn the piano round?” + </p> + <p> + One of the little boys pertly said, “It is a square piano.” + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of Agamemnon + and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + </p> + <p> + “Why did we not think of that before?” said Mrs. Peterkin. “What shall we + do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. + </h2> + <p> + THEY were sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they + should do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. “If,” said + Mrs. Peterkin, “we could only be more wise as a family!” How could they + manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the children all went to + school; but still as a family they were not wise. “It comes from books,” + said one of the family. “People who have a great many books are very + wise.” Then they counted up that there were very few books in the house,—a + few school-books and Mrs. Peterkin’s cook-book were all. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the thing!” said Agamemnon. “We want a library.” + </p> + <p> + “We want a library!” said Solomon John. And all of them exclaimed, “We + want a library!” + </p> + <p> + “Let us think how we shall get one,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I have observed + that other people think a great deal of thinking.” + </p> + <p> + So they all sat and thought a great while. + </p> + <p> + Then said Agamemnon, “I will make a library. There are some boards in the + wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails, and perhaps we can borrow + some hinges, and there we have our library!” + </p> + <p> + They were all very much pleased at the idea. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the book-case part,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “but where are the + books?” + </p> + <p> + So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, “I + will make a book!” + </p> + <p> + They all looked at him in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Solomon John, “books will make us wise, but first I must make + a book.” + </p> + <p> + So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But there was + no ink. + </p> + <p> + What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that + nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make some. The + little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the woods. So they + all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins put on her + cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and + off they went. + </p> + <p> + The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else in the + woods,—chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a great + many squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they found any + nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket and two nutgalls in + it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. Peterkin had used her very + last on some beets they had the day before. “Suppose we go and ask the + minister’s wife,” said Elizabeth Eliza. So they all went to the minister’s + wife. She said if they wanted some good vinegar they had better set a + barrel of cider down in the cellar, and in a year or two it would make + very nice vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very afternoon. When + the minister’s wife heard this, she said she should be very glad to let + them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry home. + </p> + <p> + So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they had + very good ink. + </p> + <p> + Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, but Solomon + John said, “Poets always used quills.” Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they + should go out to the poultry-yard and get a quill. But it was already + dark. They had, however, two lanterns, and the little boys borrowed the + neighbors’. They set out in procession for the poultry-yard. When they got + there, the fowls were all at roost, so they could look at them quietly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. + </h2> + <p> + But there were no geese! There were Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and + Guinea hens, and Barbary hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, and + bantams, and ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! “No geese but + ourselves,” said Mrs. Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. + The sight of this procession roused up the village. “A torchlight + procession!” cried all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the + house, shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, and + give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them that it + was only his family visiting his hens. + </p> + <p> + After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of his + writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore to get a + quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was just shutting up + his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and + they hurried home. + </p> + <p> + So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And now the + bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the mail was about in, + and perhaps he should have a letter, and then they could use the envelope + to write upon. So they all went to the post-office, and the little boys + had their india-rubber boots on, and they all shouted when they found Mr. + Peterkin had a letter. The postmaster inquired what they were shouting + about; and when they told him, he said he would give Solomon John a whole + sheet of paper for his book. And they all went back rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table looking + at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped his pen into the + ink and held it over the paper, and thought a minute, and then said, “But + I haven’t got anything to say.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. + </h2> + <p> + ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been having a + great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, “I believe I + shall take a ride this morning!” + </p> + <p> + And the little boys cried out, “Oh, may we go too?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + </p> + <p> + So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and Agamemnon + went off to their business, and Solomon John to school; and Mrs. Peterkin + began to get ready for her ride. + </p> + <p> + She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, and some + gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza wanted to pick some + flowers to take to the minister’s wife, so it took them a long time to + prepare. + </p> + <p> + The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, and + Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin put on her + cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little boys were in + their india-rubber boots, and they got into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took up + the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly stopped, + and would not go any farther. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she clucked to + the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little boys whistled and + shouted; but still the horse would not go. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to whip him,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse would not + go, she said she would get out and turn her head the other way, while + Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he began to go she would hurry + and get in. + </p> + <p> + So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we have too heavy a load,” said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got in. + </p> + <p> + So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, but + still the horse would not go. + </p> + <p> + One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just then, + called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, and they could + not hear exactly what she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have tried the whip,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “She says ‘whips,’ such as you eat,” said one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We might make those,” said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “We have got plenty of cream,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us have some whips,” cried the little boys, getting out. + </p> + <p> + And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and the wind + was very high. + </p> + <p> + So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and made some + very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all round, and they all + thought they were very nice. + </p> + <p> + They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very quickly. + </p> + <p> + “That is just what he wanted,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “now he will certainly + go!” + </p> + <p> + So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and the + gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and + they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + </p> + <p> + “We must either give up our ride,” said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, “or + else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she will say.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were eager to go + and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza went with them, while + her mother took the reins. + </p> + <p> + They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, and was + in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, she very kindly + said they might draw up the curtain from the window at the foot of the + bed, and open the blinds, and she would see. Then she asked for her + opera-glass, and looked through it, across the way, up the street, to Mrs. + Peterkin’s door. + </p> + <p> + After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned her head + back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then said, “Why don’t + you unchain the horse from the horse-post?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then + hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was untied, and + they all went to ride. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. + </h2> + <p> + ANOTHER little incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at + dinner-time. + </p> + <p> + They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of the + children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half liked lean. + Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham turned out to be a very + remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate slices,—first + one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, and so on. Mr. + Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, according to their + age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; and Elizabeth Eliza, + who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, who could eat nothing + but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had what he could eat. + </p> + <p> + It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the + vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children saw + upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet potato and + sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because not one was + satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat + and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they looked up and saw + the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into + their plates. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter now?” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, however, + made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her lean, and so + on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “What shall be done now?” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + They all sat and thought for a little while. + </p> + <p> + At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, “Suppose we ask the lady + from Philadelphia what is best to be done.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Peterkin said he didn’t like to go to her for everything; let the + children try and eat their dinner as it was. + </p> + <p> + And they all tried, but they couldn’t. “Very well, then.” said Mr. + Peterkin, “let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + “All of us?” cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the + moment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “only put on your india-rubber boots.” And they + hurried out of the house. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she kindly + stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon and Elizabeth + Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from Philadelphia said, + “But why don’t you give the slices of fat to those who like the fat, and + the slices of lean to those who like the lean?” + </p> + <p> + They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza, and + Solomon John looked at the little boys. “Why didn’t we think of that?” + said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. + </h2> + <p> + THE trouble was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the + dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up + from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she + could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach it. + All the family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in vain; the + dinner could not be stirred. + </p> + <p> + “No dinner!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite hungry,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + At last Mr. Peterkin said, “I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the + kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one went + down, taking a napkin. + </p> + <p> + The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the + family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but she + could not move it down. + </p> + <p> + The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between the + kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it! + </p> + <p> + “What is there for dinner?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Roast turkey,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato,” Mrs. Peterkin continued. + </p> + <p> + “Sweet potato!” exclaimed both the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + anxious to find a bright point. + </p> + <p> + “Let us sit down and think about it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea,” said Agamemnon, after a while. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear it,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Let each one speak his mind.” + </p> + <p> + “The turkey,” said Agamemnon, “must be just above the kitchen door. If I + had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a great idea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “If you think you could do it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Would it not be better to have a carpenter?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have neither,” + said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “A carpenter! A carpenter!” exclaimed the rest. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys should + go in search of a carpenter. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a book; for he + had another idea. + </p> + <p> + “This affair of the turkey,” he said, “reminds me of those buried cities + that have been dug out,—Herculaneum, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, “and Pompeii.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “they found there pots and kettles. Now, I should + like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a book and read. I + think it was done with a pickaxe.” + </p> + <p> + So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter’s shop, + there was no carpenter to be found there. + </p> + <p> + “He must be at his house, eating his dinner,” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Happy man,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “he has a dinner to eat!” + </p> + <p> + They went to the carpenter’s house, but found he had gone out of town for + a day’s job. But his wife told them that he always came back at night to + ring the nine-o’clock bell. + </p> + <p> + “We must wait till then,” said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at + cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down to hear of + Herculaneum and Pompeii. + </p> + <p> + Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to have tea + when they had had no dinner? A part of the family thought it would not do; + the rest wanted tea. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was here not + long ago,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Let us try to think what she would advise us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I wish she were here,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Mr. Peterkin, “she would say, let them that want tea have + it; the rest can go without.” + </p> + <p> + So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much was + eaten, as there had been no dinner. + </p> + <p> + When the nine-o’clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon John, and the + little boys rushed to the church, and found the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it might be + a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + </p> + <p> + When the matter was explained to him, he went into the dining-room, looked + into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and arranged the weight, and + pulled up the dinner. + </p> + <p> + There was a family shout. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble was in the weight,” said the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “That is why it is called a dumb-waiter,” Solomon John explained to the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was put upon the table. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for the next + day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + </p> + <p> + But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda warmed + over the vegetables. + </p> + <p> + “Patient waiters are no losers,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. + </h2> + <p> + IN fact, it was their last summer’s journey—for it had been planned + then; but there had been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + </p> + <p> + The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a trunk + suitable for travelling. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a week at a time + at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for Elizabeth Eliza when she + went to the seminary. Solomon John and Mr. Peterkin, each had his + patent-leather hand-bag. But all these were too small for the family. And + the little boys wanted to carry their kite. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother’s trunk. This was a hair-trunk, + very large and capacious. It would hold everything they would want to + carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk, or the valise and + bags. + </p> + <p> + Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next day the + things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin’s room, for her to see if they + could all be packed. + </p> + <p> + “If we can get along,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “without having to ask + advice, I shall be glad!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “It is time now for people to be coming to ask + advice of us.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things that were + already in the trunk. Here were last year’s winter things, and not only + these, but old clothes that had been put away,—Mrs. Peterkin’s + wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear before they put on + jackets and trousers. + </p> + <p> + All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old things, + putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could think of, both + summer and winter ones, because you never can tell what sort of weather + you will have. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. There were + her own and Elizabeth Eliza’s best bonnets in a bandbox; also Solomon + John’s hats, for he had an old one and a new one. He bought a new hat for + fishing, with a very wide brim and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas still + larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + </p> + <p> + “I have never had a chance to look at them,” he said; “but when one + travels, then is the time to study geography.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin packed his + tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her just as she had + packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it would help to smooth + the dresses, and placed it on top; but she was forced to take all out, and + set it at the bottom. This was not so much matter, as she had not yet the + right dresses to put in. Both Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza would need + new dresses for this occasion. The little boys’ hoops went in; so did + their india-rubber boots, in case it should not rain when they started. + They each had a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, that were packed. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second day to + see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even the little boys’ + kite lay smoothly on the top. + </p> + <p> + “I like to see a thing so nicely done,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to move + it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John could lift it alone, + or all together. + </p> + <p> + Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of it. + </p> + <p> + “Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things.” + </p> + <p> + “But we did not plan expressing it,” said Mrs. Peterkin, in a discouraged + tone. + </p> + <p> + “We can take a carriage,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage,” said Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “The hackman could not lift it, either,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “People do travel with a great deal of baggage,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And with very large trunks,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Still they are trunks that can be moved,” said Mr. Peterkin, giving + another try at the trunk in vain. “I am afraid we must give it up,” he + said; “it would be such a trouble in going from place to place.” + </p> + <p> + “We would not mind if we got it to the place,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “But how to get it there?” Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “This is our first obstacle,” said Agamemnon; “we must do our best to + conquer it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is an obstacle?” asked the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “It is the trunk,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary,” said Agamemnon, taking + the large volume from the trunk. “Ah, here it is—” And he read:— + “OBSTACLE, an impediment.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a worse word than the other,” said one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “But listen to this,” and Agamemnon continued: “Impediment is something + that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands in the way; + obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; hinderance, something + that holds back.” + </p> + <p> + “The trunk is all these,” said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “It does not entangle the feet,” said Solomon John, “for it can’t move.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it could,” said the little boys together. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the trunk and + putting them away. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” she said, “this has given me some experience in packing.” + </p> + <p> + And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + </p> + <p> + But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested that + they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the station; + the little boys could go and come with the things. But Elizabeth Eliza + thought the place too public. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + </p> + <p> + At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a good-sized + family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the journey was put + off from that summer. + </p> + <p> + But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family consultation + was held about packing it. Many things would have to be left at home, it + was so much smaller than the grandmother’s hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had + been studying the atlas through the winter, and felt familiar with the + more important places, so it would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. + Peterkin decided to leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. With great + care and discretion, and by borrowing two more leather bags, it could be + accomplished. Everything of importance could be packed, except the little + boys’ kite. What should they do about that? + </p> + <p> + The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon John and + Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + </p> + <p> + “I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of the + lady from Philadelphia,” said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + </p> + <p> + “She has come on here,” said Agamemnon, “and we have not been to see her + this summer.” + </p> + <p> + “She may think we have been neglecting her,” suggested Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion about the + kite. + </p> + <p> + They came back in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite when we get + there,” they cried. + </p> + <p> + “What a sensible idea!” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; “and I may have leisure to + help you.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll take plenty of newspapers,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And twine,” said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + </p> + <p> + The question then was, “When should they go?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. + </h2> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN awoke one morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The + wind had flung the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the + house, and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering + hedges and fences. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but nothing + could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white snow. Even Mr. + Bromwick’s house, on the opposite side of the street, was hidden by the + swift-falling flakes. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do about it?” thought Mrs. Peterkin. “No roads cleared out! + Of course there’ll be no butcher and no milkman!” + </p> + <p> + The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for there + was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no knowing when they + would have anything more to eat. + </p> + <p> + It was best to secure the breakfast first. + </p> + <p> + So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, waking + the family, and before long all were dressed and downstairs. + </p> + <p> + And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + </p> + <p> + All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was frozen. They + could open the door into the wood-house; but the wood-house door into the + yard was banked up with snow; and the front door, and the piazza door, and + the side door stuck. Nobody could get in or out! + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the kitchen fire, but + had discovered there was no furnace coal. + </p> + <p> + “The furnace coal was to have come to-day,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will come to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + </p> + <p> + But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little boys + were much pleased to have “ice-cream” for breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “When we get a little warm,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we will consider what is + to be done.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I + was to have had a leg of mutton to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will come to-day,” said Agamemnon, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Are these sausages the last meat in the house?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had meant + to order more flour that very day. + </p> + <p> + “Then we are eating our last provisions,” said Solomon John, helping + himself to another sausage. + </p> + <p> + “I almost wish we had stayed in bed,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first,” repeated Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “There’s the pig!” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and could be + reached under cover. + </p> + <p> + But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + </p> + <p> + “We should have to ‘corn’ part of him,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “My butcher has always told me,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that if I wanted a + ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have not the ham!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we could ‘corn’ one or two of his legs,” suggested one of the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We need not settle that now,” said Mr. Peterkin. “At least the pig will + keep us from starving.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + </p> + <p> + “If we had only decided to keep a cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “one learns a great many things too late!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!” exclaimed the little + boys. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were quite + pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and hurried through + their breakfasts that they might go and try to shovel out a path from one + of the doors. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to know more about the water-pipes,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Now, I + shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I forgot to; and I + ought to have shut it off in the cellar.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were going + to try the side door. + </p> + <p> + “Another thing I have learned to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, “is not to have + all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm blows the snow + against all the doors.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John started up. + </p> + <p> + “Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use,” asked Mr. Peterkin, “since we have no door on the east + side?” + </p> + <p> + “We could cut one,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we could cut a door,” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?” asked Elizabeth + Eliza,—“for there is no window.” + </p> + <p> + In fact, the east side of the Peterkins’ house formed a blank wall. The + owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached houses. He + had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary to see,” said Agamemnon, profoundly; “of course, if + the storm blows against this side of the house, the house itself must keep + the snow from the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Solomon John, “there must be a space clear of snow on the east + side of the house, and if we could open a way to that “—“We could + open a way to the butcher,” said Mr. Peterkin, promptly. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house ever since + the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + </p> + <p> + “What part of the wall had we better attack?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?” she exclaimed. + “Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?” + </p> + <p> + “It is right to preserve ourselves from starving,” said Mr. Peterkin. “The + drowning man must snatch at a straw!” + </p> + <p> + “It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the thaw + comes,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “than that he should find us lying about the + house, dead of hunger, upon the floor.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + </p> + <p> + The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not succeeded in + opening the side door, and were planning trying to open the door from the + wood-house to the garden. + </p> + <p> + “That would be of no use,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “the butcher cannot get + into the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “But we might shovel off the snow,” suggested one of the little boys, “and + dig down to some of last year’s onions.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had been bringing + together their carpenter’s tools, and Elizabeth Eliza proposed using a + gouge, if they would choose the right spot to begin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to find,—one, + a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda armed herself with a + poker. + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to begin on the ground floor,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Except that we may meet with a stone foundation,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “If the wall is thinner upstairs,” said Agamemnon, “it will do as well to + cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher may bring below + in his cart.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable place, + and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually cut a bit + out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. Solomon John confided + to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of stories of prisoners who cut + themselves free, through stone walls, after days and days of secret labor. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. She was + interrupted by a voice behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s your leg of mutton, marm!” + </p> + <p> + It was the butcher. How had he got in? + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back gate is + kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I could not make + anybody hear me knock at the side door.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you make a path to the door?” asked Mr. Peterkin. “You must + have been working at it a long time. It must be near noon now.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m about on regular time,” answered the butcher. “The town team has + cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down the last half-hour. + The storm is over.” + </p> + <p> + True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had not + noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + </p> + <p> + “And we were all up an hour earlier than usual,” said Mr. Peterkin, when + the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a pickaxe + in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “If we had lain abed till the usual time,” said Solomon John, “we should + have been all right.” + </p> + <p> + “For here is the milkman!” said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now heard + at the side door. + </p> + <p> + “It is a good thing to learn,” said Mr. Peterkin, “not to get up any + earlier than is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. + </h2> + <p> + NOT that they were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. + But for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a cow, + to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be so healthy. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and how near + they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe snow-storm, and + the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If the cow-shed could open + out of the wood-shed, such trouble might be prevented. + </p> + <p> + Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, and Agamemnon + and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, in case Tony should be + “snowed up,” or have the whooping-cough in the course of the winter. The + little boys thought they knew how already. + </p> + <p> + But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it was + important to know where to keep it. + </p> + <p> + “One way will be,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “to use a great deal every day. We + will make butter.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be admirable,” thought Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “And custards,” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And syllabub,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And cocoa-nut cakes,” exclaimed the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of a cow. + You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would be pleasant + climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall have to feed the cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Where shall we pasture her?” asked Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Up on the hills, up on the hills,” exclaimed the little boys, “where + there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the house. + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t know,” he said, “but the cow might eat off all the grass in + one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless the grass + grew fast enough every night.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy season the + grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might not grow at all. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is the worst of having a cow,—there + might be a drought.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the quantity of + grass in the lot. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by seeing how much + grass the Bromwicks’ cow, opposite them, eat up in a day. + </p> + <p> + The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the Bromwicks’ + fence, and take an observation. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble would be,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “that cows walk about so, + and the Bromwicks’ yard is very large. Now she would be eating in one + place, and then she would walk to another. She would not be eating all the + time, a part of the time she would be chewing.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have some + sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the calculations + were made. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the place, and + very likely they would make the cow angry.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. Peterkin’s + lot for his cow. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin started up. + </p> + <p> + “That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there was feed + enough for one cow.” + </p> + <p> + “And the reason you didn’t let him have it,” said Solomon John, “was that + Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not like the idea,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “of their cow’s looking + at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be planting the + sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a quiet one. I should + not like her jumping over the fence into the flower-beds.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest kind. + </p> + <p> + “I should think something might be done about covering her horns,” said + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin; “that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might be + padded with cotton.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if they + came at you they could not help knocking you over. + </p> + <p> + The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. Half the + fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after her. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + </p> + <p> + “The cow would like it ever so much better,” the little boys declared, “on + account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks and the bushes, she + could walk round and find the grassy places.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but it would be less dangerous to + keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because she would not be coming + and going, morning and night, in that jerky way the Larkins’ cows come + home. They don’t mind which gate they rush in at. I should hate to have + our cow dash into our front yard just as I was coming home of an + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Mr. Peterkin; “we can have the door of the cow-house + open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and going.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the exercise, + and they would lose a great pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch the cow. + </p> + <p> + It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they were to + put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build a dairy. + </p> + <p> + The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the family + stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly walking into the + shed. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. It was + the one she did her gardening in, and it might have infuriated the cow. + And she kept out of the garden the first day or two. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of milk-pans, of + every size. + </p> + <p> + But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + </p> + <p> + The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza said + she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, though she would + like to do her best to patronize the cow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking care of + the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she was sure the pans + and the closet were all clean. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from Philadelphia to + try,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “it will be a pretty attention before she + goes.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be awkward if she didn’t like it,” said Solomon John. “Perhaps + something is the matter with the grass.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday,” said one of the little boys, + remorsefully. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all to the + lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the milk + was sour! + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid it was so,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “but I didn’t know what to + expect from these new kinds of cows.” + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + </p> + <p> + “In the new dairy,” answered Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Is that in a cool place?” asked the lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Is it near the chimney?” inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + “It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range,” replied + Elizabeth Eliza. “I suppose it is too hot!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is it! Last winter the milk froze, + and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall we put our dairy?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. + </h2> + <p> + EARLY in the autumn the Peterkins began to prepare for their + Christmas-tree. + </p> + <p> + Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to the + neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin had been up + to Mr. + </p> + <p> + Bromwick’s wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. Agamemnon + went to look at it occasionally after dark, and Solomon John made frequent + visits to it mornings, just after sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove Elizabeth + Eliza and her mother that way, and pointed furtively to it with his whip; + but none of them ever spoke of it aloud to each other. It was suspected + that the little boys had been to see it Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. + But they came home with their pockets full of chestnuts, and said nothing + about it. + </p> + <p> + At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into the + Larkin’s barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement was made of it + with Elizabeth Eliza’s yard-measure. To Mr. Peterkin’s great dismay it was + discovered that it was too high to stand in the back parlor. + </p> + <p> + This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, + Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. Peterkin + was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles would drip. + </p> + <p> + But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the ceiling of + the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of the tree. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It must + not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I should have the ceiling lifted all across the + room; the effect would be finer.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, because her + room was over the back parlor, and she would have no floor while the + alteration was going on, which would be very awkward. Besides, her room + was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, perhaps she could + not walk in it upright. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn’t propose altering the whole ceiling, + but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part where the tree was + to stand. + </p> + <p> + This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza’s room; but it + would go across the whole room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the cuddy + thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit against, only here + you would not have the sea-sickness. She thought she should like it, for a + rarity. She might use it for a divan. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the carpet, and + might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the matter secret, + for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; but Mr. Peterkin + proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, for a number of other + jobs. + </p> + <p> + One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same height, + for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting down in a chair + that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, and it had proved to be + two inches lower. The little boys were now large enough to sit in any + chair; so a medium was fixed upon to satisfy all the family, and the + chairs were made uniformly of the same height. + </p> + <p> + On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree could be + cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, and demurred at + so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. Peterkin had set his + mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had cut her carpet in + preparation for it. + </p> + <p> + So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for nearly a + fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen plastering, + and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth Eliza’s carpet was taken + up, and the furniture had to be changed, and one night she had to sleep at + the Bromwicks’, for there was a long hole in her floor that might be + dangerous. + </p> + <p> + All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what was + going on. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know why a + Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still more astonished + at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza’s room. It must be a + Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + </p> + <p> + Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, with + some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of the little + boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and mystery, behind doors, + and under the stairs, and in the corners of the entry. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the tree. He had + been collecting some bayberries, as he understood they made very nice + candles, so that it would not be necessary to buy any. + </p> + <p> + The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor together, and + all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin would go in with + Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth Eliza, or Elizabeth Eliza and + Agamemnon and Solomon John. The little boys and the small cousins were + never allowed even to look inside the room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She wanted to + consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should need, and whether they + could make it at home, as they had cream and ice. She was pretty busy in + her own room; the furniture had to be changed, and the carpet altered. The + “hump” was higher than she expected. There was danger of bumping her own + head whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some padding on the ceiling + for fear of accidents. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and their + father collected in the back parlor for a council. The carpenters had done + their work, and the tree stood at its full height at the back of the room, + the top stretching up into the space arranged for it. All the chips and + shavings were cleared away, and it stood on a neat box. + </p> + <p> + But what were they to put upon the tree? + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they proved to be + very “stringy” and very few of them. It was strange how many bayberries it + took to make a few candles! The little boys had helped him, and he had + gathered as much as a bushel of bayberries. He had put them in water, and + skimmed off the wax, according to the directions; but there was so little + wax! + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off from the + legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should cover them with gilt + paper, to answer for gilt apples, without telling them what they were for. + </p> + <p> + These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they had + for the tree! + </p> + <p> + After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring + anything for it. + </p> + <p> + “I thought of candies and sugar-plums,” she said; “but I concluded if we + made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, then, we have not + made caramels. The fact is, that day my head was full of my carpet. I had + bumped it pretty badly, too.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an apple-tree he + had seen in October, full of red fruit. + </p> + <p> + “But the leaves would have fallen off by this time,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And the apples, too,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to get + the things,” said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. “But I went from shop to + shop, and didn’t know exactly what to get. I saw a great many gilt things + for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys were making the gilt + apples; there were plenty of candles in the shops, but I knew Solomon John + was making the candles.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into town now. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to be a + grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be spared, and Solomon + John was sure he and Agamemnon would not know what to buy. Besides, they + would want to try the candles to-night. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing would not + answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too heavy. + </p> + <p> + A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam from one of + Solomon John’s candles that he had lighted by way of trial. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match to examine + the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of trains coming out at + that hour, but none going in except a very late one. That would not leave + time to do anything and come back. + </p> + <p> + “We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I,” said Solomon John, “but we should + not have time to buy anything.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the uncles and + aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there was time to study up + something about electric lights. If they could only have a calcium light! + Solomon John’s candle sputtered and went out. + </p> + <p> + At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The little + boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and Mrs. Peterkin, + hastened to see what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + The uncles and aunts thought somebody’s house must be on fire. The door + was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for it was beginning + to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza’s purchases, + so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and hastily called + back her guests and the little boys into the other room. The little boys + and the small cousins were sure they had seen Santa Claus himself. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza. It + was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a hint from + Elizabeth Eliza’s letters that there was to be a Christmas-tree, and had + filled this box with all that would be needed. + </p> + <p> + It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, from + gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining flags and + lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets of + fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at the bottom of the whole, + a large box of candles and a box of Philadelphia bonbons! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from screaming. The + little boys and the small cousins knocked on the folding-doors to ask what + was the matter. + </p> + <p> + Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung them on the + tree, and put on the candles. + </p> + <p> + When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed:—“Let + us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors to-night, + and have the tree on Christmas Eve!” + </p> + <p> + And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day before, + and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. + </h2> + <p> + TWAS important to have a tea-party, as they had all been invited by + everybody,—the Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would + be such a good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the + lady from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who would be + sure to make it all go off well. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were too + many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and saucers in the + best set. + </p> + <p> + “There are seven of us, to begin with,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “We need not all drink tea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I never do,” said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + </p> + <p> + “And we could have coffee, too,” suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “That would take as many cups,” objected Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “We could use the every-day set for the coffee,” answered Elizabeth Eliza; + “they are the right shape. Besides,” she went on, “they would not all + come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; they never go out.” + </p> + <p> + “There are but six cups in the every-day set,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin agreed + with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. Jeffers never went + out. + </p> + <p> + “There are three of the Tremletts,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “they never go + out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to have the headache. + Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the three Gibbons boys, and their + sister Juliana; but the other sisters are out West, and there is but one + Osborne.” + </p> + <p> + It really did seem safe to ask “everybody.” They would be sorry, after it + was over, that they had not asked more. + </p> + <p> + “We have the cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “so there will be as much cream and + milk as we shall need.” + </p> + <p> + “And our own pig,” said Agamemnon. “I am glad we had it salted; so we can + have plenty of sandwiches.” + </p> + <p> + “I will buy a chest of tea,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. “I have been thinking + of a chest for some time.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was as well to + buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin determined on a + chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + </p> + <p> + So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy + evening and some would be prevented. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + </p> + <p> + And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. Ann Maria + Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought her over, for the + Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the Tremletts had a niece, and Mary + Osborne an aunt, that they took the liberty to bring. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each set + came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that more were + coming. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, and trying + to calculate how many were to come, and wondering why there were always + more and never less, and whether the cups would go round. + </p> + <p> + The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had their + headaches the day before, and were having that banged feeling you always + have after a headache; so they all sat at the same side of the room on the + long sofa. + </p> + <p> + All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. Old Mr. + Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor door. And + Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, unexpectedly home + from the West. + </p> + <p> + “Got home this morning!” they said. “And so glad to be in time to see + everybody,—a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a + sleeping-car!” + </p> + <p> + “Forty-eight!” repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were + forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and whether all + could sit down. + </p> + <p> + Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be neighborly to + stay away. They insisted on getting into the most uncomfortable seats. + </p> + <p> + Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys preferred to + stand. + </p> + <p> + But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had thought + they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John and the little + boys could help in the waiting. + </p> + <p> + It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived with her + daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, who was a little + deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther behind the parlor door. + Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake hands with the lady from + Philadelphia, saying:—“Four Gibbons girls and Mary Osborne’s aunt,—that + makes nineteen; and now”—It made no difference what she said; for + there was such a murmuring of talk that any words suited. And the lady + from Philadelphia wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + </p> + <p> + It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, and + asked:— + </p> + <p> + “Can’t we go and ask more? Can’t we fetch the Larkins?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, no!” answered Elizabeth Eliza. “I can’t even count them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, to ask + if there were going to be cups enough. + </p> + <p> + “I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count,” said Elizabeth Eliza, + putting her hand to her head. + </p> + <p> + The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + </p> + <p> + “The Maberlys!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. “I never asked them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is your father’s doing,” cried Mrs. Peterkin. “I do believe he asked + everybody he saw!” And she hurried back to her guests. + </p> + <p> + “What if father really has asked everybody?” Elizabeth Eliza said to + herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + </p> + <p> + There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, or + both, the cups could not go round. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + </p> + <p> + He had not been able to count the guests, they moved about so, they talked + so; and it would not look well to appear to count. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “We are not a family for an emergency,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, when + there were more people than cups and saucers?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + “Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady from Philadelphia is + talking about the Exhibition, and telling how she stayed at home to + receive friends. And they must have had trouble there! Could not you go in + and ask, just as if you wanted to know?” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many talking with the + lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + “If we could only look into some book,” he said,—“the encyclopaedia + or the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment he thought of his “Great Triumphs of Great Men,” that he + was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the Stephensons, or + any of the men of modern times. He might skip over to them,—he knew + they were men for emergencies. + </p> + <p> + He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with chairs. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good thought,” said Agamemnon. “I will bring down more upstairs + chairs.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Solomon John; “here are all that can come down; the rest of the + bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will do!” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only he could + invent something on the spur of the moment,—a set of bedroom + furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into parlor chairs! It + seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his table and pencils, when he + was interrupted by the little boys, who came to tell him that Elizabeth + Eliza wanted him. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the tea-table, + with all the things on, should be pushed into the front room, where the + company were; and those could take cups who could find cups. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a table; + it might upset, and break what china they had. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back room. She + called to him:—“Agamemnon, you must bring Mary Osborne to help, and + perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry round some of the cups.” + </p> + <p> + And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, and the + tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + </p> + <p> + The little boys took the sugar and cream. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and saucers to be + washed,” she said to the Gibbons boys and the little boys. + </p> + <p> + This was an idea of Mary Osborne’s. + </p> + <p> + But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the more cups + they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, and Mary Osborne the + tea. + </p> + <p> + Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand it,” Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. “Do they come + back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are more cups than + there were!” + </p> + <p> + Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be coffee-cups that + matched the set! And they never had had coffee-cups. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Solomon John!” Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; “I cannot understand the cups!” + </p> + <p> + “It is my doing,” said Solomon John, with an elevated air. “I went to the + lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. ‘What do you do in + Philadelphia, when you haven’t enough cups?’ ‘Borrow of my neighbors,’ she + answered, as quick as she could.” + </p> + <p> + “She must have guessed,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “That may be,” said Solomon John. “But I whispered to Ann Maria Bromwick,—she + was standing by,—and she took me straight over into their closet, + and old Mr. Bromwick bought this set just where we bought ours. And they + had a coffee-set, too”—“You mean where our father and mother bought + them. We were not born,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “It is all the same,” said Solomon John. “They match exactly.” + </p> + <p> + So they did, and more and more came in. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!” + </p> + <p> + “Ann Maria was very good about it,” said Solomon John; “and quick, too. + And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two dozen coffee and tea + cups!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told the + Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She + almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “No trouble now!” + </p> + <p> + She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. + </p> + <p> + No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all seemed + to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, talking + to Mr. + </p> + <p> + Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were handing + things around. + </p> + <p> + The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls on the + edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a soft, warm + evening, and some of the young people were on the piazza. Everybody was + talking and laughing, except those who were listening. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for more + coffee. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a great success, Elizabeth Eliza,” he whispered. “The coffee is + admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should not mind + having a tea-party every week.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going off + well. + </p> + <p> + There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over another + such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + </h2> + <p> + Dramatis Personæ.—Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda’s + mother, girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. + AMANDA [coming in with a few graduates ]. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole class home to + the collation. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and Sophie + with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time for + the collation. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER [to herself ].—If the ice-cream will go round. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? This is + Elizabeth Eliza, girls—you have heard me speak of her. What a pity + you were too late! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We tried to come; we did our best. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Did you miss the train? Didn’t you get my postal-card? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We had nothing to do with the train. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—You don’t mean you walked? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—O no, indeed! + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—We came in a horse and carryall. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall part. + But didn’t you start in time? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—It all comes from the carryall being so hard to turn. + I told Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that don’t + turn easy. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—They turn easy enough in the stable, so you can’t + tell. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes; we started with the little boys and Solomon John + on the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. She was to drive, and + I was to see to the driving. But the horse was not faced toward Boston. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an accident! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—And the little boys—where are they? Are they killed? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—The little boys are all safe. We left them at the + Pringles’, with Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—But what did happen? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We started the wrong way. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—You lost your way, after all? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—No; we knew the way well enough. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—It’s as plain as a pikestaff! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—No; we had the horse faced in the wrong direction,—toward + Providence. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—And mother was afraid to have me turn, and we kept + on and on till we should reach a wide place. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I thought we should come to a road that would veer + off to the right or left, and bring us back to the right direction. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Why, no; if it had broken down we should not have + been in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay in the + carriage, whatever happens. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—But nothing seemed to happen. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—O yes; we met one man after another, and we asked the + way to Boston. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—And all they would say was, “Turn right round—you + are on the road to Providence.” + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—As if we could turn right round! That was just what + we couldn’t. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—You don’t mean you kept on all the way to Providence? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met a man + with a black hand-bag—black leather I should say. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—He must have been a book-agent. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He set it on + a stone. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—I dare say it was the same one that came here the other day. + He wanted me to buy the “History of the Aborigines, Brought up from + Earliest Times to the Present Date,” in four volumes. I told him I hadn’t + time to read so much. He said that was no matter, few did, and it wasn’t + much worth it—they bought books for the look of the thing. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Now, that was illiterate; he never could have graduated. I + hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that man. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—Very likely it was not the same one. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of the + buttons worn? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I noticed one of the buttons was off. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—We’re off the subject. Did you buy his book? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—He never offered us his book. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—He told us the same story,—we were going to + Providence; if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I told him I couldn’t; but he took the horse’s + head, and the first thing I knew—AMANDA.—He had yanked you + round! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I screamed; I couldn’t help it! + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I was glad when it was over! + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was + headed right; but we lost time. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and seeing + you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma myself. I came near + it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I think + there was partiality about the promotions. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I never was good about remembering things. I + studied well enough, but, when I came to say off my lesson, I couldn’t think + what it was. Yet I could have answered some of the other girls’ questions. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—It’s odd how the other girls always have the easiest + questions. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I never could remember poetry There was only one + thing I could repeat. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Oh, do let us have it now; and then we’ll recite to you some + of our exhibition pieces. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I’ll try. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help + entertain Amanda’s friends. + </p> + <p> + [All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and thoughtful. + ] ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I’m trying to think what it is about. You all + know it. You remember, Amanda,—the name is rather long. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—It can’t be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?—that is one of the + longest names I know. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O dear, no! + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—Perhaps it’s Cleopatra. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It does begin with a “C”—only he was a boy. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—That’s a pity, for it might be “We are seven,” only that is + a girl. Some of them were boys. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It begins about a boy—if I could only think + where he was. I can’t remember. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Perhaps he “stood upon the burning deck?” + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—That’s just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Casablanca! Now begin—go ahead. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—“The boy stood on the burning deck, When—When—” + I can’t think who stood there with him. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—If the deck was burning, it must have been on fire. I guess + the rest ran away, or jumped into boats. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—That’s just it:—“Whence all but him had fled.” + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I think I can say it now. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled—-” + </pre> + <p> + [She hesitates. ] Then I think he went— + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—Of course, he fled after the rest. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Dear, no! That’s the point. He didn’t. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + </pre> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O yes. Now I can say it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled; + The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + </pre> + <p> + But it used to rhyme. I don’t know what has happened to it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the rhymes. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It must be “without his father’s head,” or, + perhaps, “without his father said” he should. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—I think you must have omitted something. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—She has left out ever so much! + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Perhaps it’s as well to omit some, for the ice-cream has + come, and you must all come down. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite in + a song! + </p> + <p> + [Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + </h2> + <p> + THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys the + evening before. + </p> + <p> + They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing of + horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely five + minutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward till the + family were downstairs. + </p> + <p> + It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though + crowded, period of noise. + </p> + <p> + The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o’clock, a + terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: “I am thankful + the lady from Philadelphia is not here!” For she had been invited to stay + a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth of July, as she was not + well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + </p> + <p> + And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though every + cow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns! + </p> + <p> + “How many little boys are there? How many have we?” exclaimed Mr. + Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking he + would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, to + put himself to sleep. Alas! + </p> + <p> + the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + </p> + <p> + And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Eliza was to + take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the five minutes, + and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Why did not + Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + </p> + <p> + And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen! + </p> + <p> + “We will not try this plan again,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “If we live to another Fourth,” added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the door + to inquire into the state of affairs. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour too early. + And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or four of their + friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had given them + permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understood the day + as beginning when they went to bed the night before. This accounted for + the number of horns. + </p> + <p> + It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the five + minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained only the + noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possible + pillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bells + and cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,—the sunrise, + or “the rising of the sons,” as Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their + friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + </p> + <p> + They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the + suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang some + flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew of a + place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for + “flag-root,” and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They did + bring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. The boys + were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of the piazza + when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along. As the + procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and the crowd of + boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house with some + especial strains of greeting. + </p> + <p> + Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a few moments + of quiet, during the boys’ absence from the house on their visit to the + swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she had a sick-headache, or + whether it was all the noise, and she was just deciding it was the sick + headache, but was falling into a light slumber, when the fresh noise + outside began. + </p> + <p> + There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of donkeys, + and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers of the boys. + Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles had Chinese + crackers also. + </p> + <p> + And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had never + allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraid of + torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some the + children would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it. + </p> + <p> + She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even about + pea-nuts. + </p> + <p> + Everybody exclaimed over this: “Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!” + But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at the + Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets in + Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast the + pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, in + the midst of a crowd of people, too! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should be sorry + to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution, something + really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed to a quiet + pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on the sidewalks as he + went along the streets. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + </p> + <p> + In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real + celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consented to + give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family as a + Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terrible noise,—only + she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days beforehand, + that their mother might be used to the sound, and had selected their horns + some weeks before. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs. + Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from the + dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,—saltpetre, + charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in the + wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel; + and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary’s. He explained to his mother + that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and she was + quieted. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere for making + a “fulminating paste” of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. He had + written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But the iron + filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or two before, + and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on the piazza. + </p> + <p> + Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening. + </p> + <p> + According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, the + reading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in the + morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + </p> + <p> + The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + </p> + <p> + “That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant,” explained Elizabeth + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “She said the flags of our country,” said the little boys. “We thought she + meant ‘in the country.’” + </p> + <p> + Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of the + Declaration of Independence. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add as + much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as they + began:—“When, in the course of—when, in the course of—when, + in the course of human—when in the course of human events—when, + in the course of human events, it becomes—when, in the course of + human events, it becomes necessary—when, in the course of human + events it becomes necessary for one people”—They could not get any + farther. Some of the party decided that “one people” was a good place to + stop, and the little boys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the + people. But Mr. Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party + to stay until sunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes + were to be saved to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + </p> + <p> + And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have some cold + beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and everybody + ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a dinner. But + when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it to soak, on + account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks! + </p> + <p> + Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought tamarinds + and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when the Antiques + and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts and lemonade. + </p> + <p> + They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, they + frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppies + were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in the + garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing of insects, + in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Some neighboring boys + were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs. Peterkin started, + and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone. Mr. Peterkin had set + out to find a copy of the “Declaration.” Agamemnon had disappeared. She + had not a moment to decide about her headache. + </p> + <p> + She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and if + rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure where + they came down. + </p> + <p> + And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed toward + them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for a + practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of the + guests. + </p> + <p> + There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they would better + go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkin hastened into + the house to save herself, or see what she could save. Elizabeth Eliza + followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers and tongs she + could find, because they could be thrown out of the window without + breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses out of the + window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on fire, and had + carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. There was nothing + like being prepared. She had always determined to do the reverse. So with + calmness she told Solomon John to take down the looking-glasses. But she + met with a difficulty,—there were no pokers and tongs, as they did + not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin had been afraid of + them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and kettles up to the upper + windows, ready to be thrown out. + </p> + <p> + But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the attic + in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the most + unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags of old + pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, she + said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks on Fourth of + July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all the company + declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long before Mrs. + Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company was only out for + show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought it already too much + celebrated. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza’s kettles and pans had come down through the windows with + a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boys thought. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy of + the Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and he had + to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannon began, + he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bells and + sounding of the cannon. + </p> + <p> + Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjoram + pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off with + great explosions. + </p> + <p> + At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon, + with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside. + </p> + <p> + “I have suddenly remembered where I read about the ‘fulminating paste’ we + made. It was in the preface to ‘Woodstock,’ and I have been round to + borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraid + about the ‘paste’ going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where is the + fulminating paste?” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel. + It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told him + of the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it the + louder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon John felt + it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for a medicine. + </p> + <p> + He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon’s book: “This paste, + when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take + fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the paste?” repeated Solomon John, in terror. + </p> + <p> + “We made it just twenty-six hours ago,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “We put it on the piazza,” exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling the + facts, “and it is in front of our mother’s feet!” + </p> + <p> + He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, flinging + aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon the piazza at the + same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded at once with the + shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same moment the paste + “fulminated” into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs. Peterkin! + </p> + <p> + It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. The + bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had just + reached the closing words: “Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred + honor.” + </p> + <p> + “We are all blown up, as I feared we should be,” Mrs. Peterkin at length + ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of the + piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered limbs + about her. + </p> + <p> + It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the + piazza, with closed eyes. + </p> + <p> + At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, “Is anybody killed?” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody was + killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great while + before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move. + </p> + <p> + But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of + Solomon John’s fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had his + face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza’s muslin + dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one had lost any + limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flying in the air. + Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmly shut. + </p> + <p> + No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of Solomon + John’s nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the + “fulminating paste.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how she got + there. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused the + neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on every + side, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boys + hastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. Solomon John’s + other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have a + headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to see if + it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures of the + day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boys had been + allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there was likely to be + but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared she should never + more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetred beef, and she + should never venture to take another spoonful of potash. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. + </h2> + <p> + THERE was some doubt about the weather. Solomon John looked at the + “Probabilities;” there were to be “areas” of rain in the New England + States. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of rain were to + be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed walking round the + house in a procession, to examine the sky. As they returned they met Ann + Maria Bromwick, who was to go, much surprised not to find them ready. + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the lady + from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to follow in a wagon, + and to stop for the daughters of the lady from Philadelphia. The wagon + arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall. + </p> + <p> + A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where anybody + could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as soon as it was + thought of. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; somebody was always + complaining of being too hot or too cold at a picnic, and it would be a + great convenience to see if she really were so. He thought now he might + take a barometer, as “Probabilities” was so uncertain. Then, if it went + down in a threatening way, they could all come back. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never tried + them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. Solomon John had put + in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a book of poetry. Mr. Peterkin did + not like sitting on the ground, and proposed taking two chairs, one for + himself and one for anybody else. The little boys were perfectly happy; + they jumped in and out of the wagon a dozen times, with new india-rubber + boots, bought for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already had + enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying to remember + things. So many mistakes were made. The things that were to go in the + wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in the carryall had to be + taken out for the wagon! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her veil, + and Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she + must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could not she think + of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any day to think what to + have for dinner, but how much easier now it would be to stay at home + quietly and order the dinner,—and there was the butcher’s cart! But + now they must think of everything. + </p> + <p> + At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to drive. + </p> + <p> + Twice they started, and twice they found something was left behind,—the + loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a basket of sandwiches + on the front porch. And just as the wagon was leaving, the little boys + shrieked, “The basket of things was left behind!” + </p> + <p> + Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the house, to see + if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; he shut the front + door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into the wagon himself. It + started off and went down the street without him! + </p> + <p> + He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why had they + not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel of the wagon, so + that he might have sent a message in such a case!), when the Bromwicks + drove out of their yard in their buggy, and took him in. + </p> + <p> + They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they were all + to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin called to + Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been holding the barometer and + the thermometer, and they waggled so that it troubled her. It was hard + keeping the thermometer out of the sun, which would make it so warm. It + really took away her pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon decided to + get into the carryall, on the seat with his father, and take the barometer + and thermometer. + </p> + <p> + The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or Lonetown + Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, but maybe the drive + to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + </p> + <p> + Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the picnic was + got up for her. + </p> + <p> + But where was she? + </p> + <p> + “I declare,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I forgot to stop for her!” The whole + picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + </p> + <p> + It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner as they + passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, and Mrs. + Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers that she had not + noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten something! She + did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short turn, and it was getting + late, and what would the lady from Philadelphia think of it, and had they + not better give it all up? + </p> + <p> + But everybody said “No!” and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a wide turn + round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took up the lady from + Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind and took up their daughters, + for there was a driver in the wagon besides Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might as well + stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question was put again, + Where should they go? + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nook—it sounded + inviting. + </p> + <p> + There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, but there + was a good place to tie the horses. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know what the + lady from Philadelphia would think of their having forgotten her, and the + more she tried to explain it, the worse it seemed to make it. She supposed + they never did such things in Philadelphia; she knew they had invited all + the world to a party, but she was sure she would never want to invite + anybody again. There was no fun about it till it was all over. Such a + mistake—to have a party for a person, and then go without her; but + she knew they would forget something! She wished they had not called it + their picnic. + </p> + <p> + There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. “Was anything broke?” + exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. “Was something forgotten?” asked the lady from + Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + No! But Mr. Peterkin didn’t know the way; and here he was leading all the + party, and a long row of carriages following. + </p> + <p> + They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, unless + it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They were made to drive up, + and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different direction, but they + could bring the party round to it through the meadows. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a + pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry Nook, + and had better keep on, So they kept on. It proved to be an excellent + place, where they could tie the horses to a fence. Mrs. Peterkin did not + like their all heading different ways; it seemed as if any of them might + come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the little boys had + their kites flapping round. The Tremletts insisted upon the whole party + going up the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons boys, and the + little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all the party had to + carry everything up to the rocks. The large basket of “things” was very + heavy. + </p> + <p> + It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to take + it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and old Mr. + Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + </p> + <p> + And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. The + other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the + carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And the table-cloth was + spread,—for they did bring a table-cloth,—and the baskets were + opened, and the picnic really began. + </p> + <p> + The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been + forgotten, and the Tremletts’ basket had been left on their front + door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, and everything + they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were perfectly happy, and ate + of all the kinds of cake. Two of the Tremletts would stand while they were + eating, because they were afraid of the ants and the spiders that seemed + to be crawling round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to keep poking with a fern + leaf to drive the insects out of the plates. The lady from Philadelphia + was made comfortable with the cushions and shawls, leaning against a rock. + Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she had been forgotten. + </p> + <p> + John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: “Why is a + pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? Because one is a + grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her + friends in Boston had told her. It was, “Why is—” It began, “Why is + something like—no, Why are they different?” It was something about + an old woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very + funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was alike + or different. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth + Eliza’s conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one of + the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just + discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to rain + down directly. + </p> + <p> + Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + </p> + <p> + There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it appeared + that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had gone back + for it twice. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put + the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the + hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + </p> + <p> + There was a great cry for the “emergency basket,” that had not been opened + yet. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into it + what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. Everybody + stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered with newspapers. + First came out a backgammon-board. “That would be useful,” said Ann Maria, + “if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody’s barn.” Next, a pair of + andirons. “What were they for?” “In case of needing a fire in the woods,” + explained Solomon John. Then came a volume of the Encyclopædia. But it was + the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and contained only A and a part + of B, and nothing about rain or showers. Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in + by the little boys, and Elizabeth Eliza’s book of poetry, and a change of + boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small foot-rug in case the ground should be + damp; some paint-boxes of the little boys’; a box of fish-hooks for + Solomon John; an ink-bottle, carefully done up in a great deal of + newspaper, which was fortunate, as the ink was oozing out; some old + magazines, and a blacking-bottle; and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was + all very entertaining, and there seemed to be something for every occasion + but the present. Old Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy. + It was all so interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the + carriages. + </p> + <p> + The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on setting + up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and they might + as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon John and Ann Maria had + arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their watches, so + that they might see if it was right. And then came a great exclamation at + the hour: “It was time they were all going home!” + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she + felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they + had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes to + consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time to + fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away. But it + had been a delightful picnic, after all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. + </h2> + <p> + EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have “something” + at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to get + up a “great Exposition,” to show to the people of the place. But Mr. + Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for + “exhibits,” and it was given up. + </p> + <p> + There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common, and the + ladies of the place thought it ought to be something handsome,—something + more than a common trough,—and they ought to work for it. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, and she + felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, but she + would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written to the + lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, if they had + asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble. + </p> + <p> + Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what they + wanted? + </p> + <p> + It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask about. + And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but you could not + always put them together. There was this idea of the water-trough, and + then this idea of getting some money for it. So she began with writing to + the lady from Philadelphia. The little boys believed she spent enough for + it in postage-stamps before it all came out. + </p> + <p> + But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have some charades + at their own house for the benefit of the needed water-trough,—tickets + sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwick was to help act, because + she could bring some old bonnets and gowns that had been worn by an aged + aunt years ago, and which they had always kept. Elizabeth Eliza said that + Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they must borrow all the red + things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She knew people would be willing + to lend things. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, they + were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it too + odd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything to + frighten her mother. + </p> + <p> + She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her letters,—the + one that had “Turk” in it,—but they ought to have two words “Oh, + yes,” Ann Maria said, “you must have two words; if the people paid for + their tickets they would want to get their money’s worth.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought you might have “Hindoos”; the little boys could color + their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the first scene an + Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for “dues,” and + then have the little boys for Hindoos. + </p> + <p> + A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit. There + was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doors stuck when + you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that the Pan-Elocutionists + had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne, and so it was decided + to ask John Osborne to help. + </p> + <p> + If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said he was + sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make a stage + if John Osborne would help put it up. + </p> + <p> + All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann + Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and they + spent the evening in trying on the various things,—such odd caps and + remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of + bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off + well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys + brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with costumes. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what they + were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she had,—it + would all come of use. + </p> + <p> + The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon + and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped + zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There + was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and such + a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came in the + little boys, shouting, “All the tickets are sold, at ten cents each!” + </p> + <p> + “Seventy tickets sold!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Seven dollars for the water-trough!” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And we do not know yet what we are going to act!” exclaimed Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + But everybody’s attention had to be given to the scene that was going up + in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was + magnificent, and represented a forest. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we going to put seventy people?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, + venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter. + </p> + <p> + The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted of + boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and sweeping + and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made ready! It was + late, and some of the people had already come to secure good seats, even + before the actors had assembled. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to act?” asked Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I have been so torn with one thing and another,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “I + haven’t had time to think!” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you the word yet?” asked John Osborne, for the audience was + flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “I have got one word in my pocket,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “in the letter + from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. + Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don’t yet understand the whole of the + word.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know the word, and the people are all here!” said John Osborne, + impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza!” exclaimed Ann Maria, “Solomon John says I’m to be a + Turkish slave, and I’ll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils + are? You know I brought them over last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere + scarf!” exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!” cried + another of the boys. + </p> + <p> + And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other side + of the thin curtain. + </p> + <p> + “You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sit + where you can hear.” + </p> + <p> + “And let Julia Fitch come where she can see,” said another voice. + </p> + <p> + “And we have not any words for them to hear or see!” exclaimed John + Osborne, behind the curtain. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish we’d never determined to have charades! exclaimed Elizabeth + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t we return the money?” + </p> + <p> + “They are all here; we must give them something!” said John Osborne, + heroically. + </p> + <p> + “And Solomon John is almost dressed,” reported Ann Maria, winding a veil + around her head. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t we take Solomon John’s word ‘Hindoos’ for the first?” said + Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the “hin,” or anything, + and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a + feather duster. + </p> + <p> + The bell rang, and the first scene began. + </p> + <p> + It was a great success. John Osborne’s Irish was perfect. Nobody guessed + the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, and + made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as an old + woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the audience, + speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who appeared in a + more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly back, saying she + had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the effect intended, + and it was loudly cheered. + </p> + <p> + Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of their + friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano till the + scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done up in blankets + and turbans. + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful that is over,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for now we can act my + word. Only I don’t myself know the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, let us act it,” said John Osborne, “and the audience can + guess the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “The first syllable must be the letter P,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “and we + must have a school.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on as + scholars. + </p> + <p> + All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school by + flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll guess that to be ‘row,’” said John Osborne in despair; “they’ll + never guess ‘P’!” + </p> + <p> + The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John + Osborne’s army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all the + family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him, + veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes. + </p> + <p> + This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth Eliza + was sure she did not know what to do,—whether to kneel or sit down; + she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could not + help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however, kept his + solemnity. “I suppose I need not say much,” he had said, “for I shall be + the ‘Turk who was dreaming of the hour.’” But he did order the little boys + to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice insisted they must + have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and the scene closed. + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do now?” asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “We must have an ‘inn’ scene,” said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her + letter; “two inns, if we can.” + </p> + <p> + “We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going to + another,” said John Osborne. + </p> + <p> + “Now is the time for the bandboxes,” said Solomon John, who, since his + Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the charade. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw + Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns. The + little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes. Bandbox + after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the applause + was immense. At last the curtain fell. + </p> + <p> + “Now for the whole,” said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage + over a heap of umbrellas. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the whole,” + said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, they are guessing,” said John Osborne. “‘D-ice-box.’ I don’t + wonder they get it wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “But we know it can’t be that!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony. “How + can we act the whole if we don’t know it ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see it!” said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. “Get your whole family + in for the last scene.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the + background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon John, + leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance, and in + front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in their india-rubber + boots. + </p> + <p> + The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, “The Peterkins!” + “P-Turk-Inns!” + </p> + <p> + It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole. + </p> + <p> + “What a tableau!” exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; “the Peterkin family guessing + their own charade.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. + </h2> + <p> + AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was + called a “semi-detached” house, when there was no other “semi” to it. It + had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built the + other half. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the + terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully + satisfied with the one they were in. + </p> + <p> + But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new railroad + had to be carried directly through the place, and a station was to be + built on that very spot. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether they + could not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give up the + lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant, and it + would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be no danger of + missing the train, if one were sure of the direction. + </p> + <p> + But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and the + steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under the + dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what the + family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move. + </p> + <p> + But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that satisfied + the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a tan-pit; another + was too much in the middle of the town, next door to a machine-shop. + Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, that should face the + sunset; while Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towards + the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), for the + sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house with a great + many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr. Peterkin did + not like so much slamming, and felt there was more danger of burglars with + so many doors. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop. + If he could have carpenters’ tools and a workbench he could build an + observatory, if it were wanted. + </p> + <p> + But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leave their + house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch’s, at the Corners. + It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, and was opposite + a barn. There were three other doors,—too many to please Mr. + Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was no observatory, + and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house was too low and + some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had hoped for a view; + but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more healthy to have to + walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they might get tired of the + same every day. + </p> + <p> + And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carried + their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent the + evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everything + beforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her mother + dreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkin + shook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort. + Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme would make + it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, which could be + put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlor furniture could + be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms, in which Mr. and + Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the move went on. Then the old + parlor carpets could be taken up for the new dining-room and the + downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhile dine at the old house. + Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the distance was considerable, + as he felt exercise would be good for them all. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza’s programme then arranged that the dining-room furniture + should be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlor carpets + would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleep in the + old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable place in one + house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, he would find + some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day there should be moved + only the furniture needed for a certain room. Great confusion would be + avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote these last words at + the head of her programme,—“Misplace nothing.” + </p> + <p> + And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of the family. + </p> + <p> + THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.—Page 126. The first thing to be done was to + buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at some in + Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with her father, + Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them. + </p> + <p> + They got home about eleven o’clock, and when they reached the house were + dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, already partly + filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, a large + book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meet them in + an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture carts had appeared + soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the men had insisted upon + beginning to move the things. In vain had she shown Elizabeth Eliza’s + programme; in vain had she insisted they must take only the parlor + furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy pieces in the bottom + of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So she had seen them go + into every room in the house, and select one piece of furniture after + another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza’s programme; she doubted + if they could have read it if they had looked at it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea they + would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fill + the carts. + </p> + <p> + But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,—a heavy piece of + furniture,—and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables. + Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every book + on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books in + the bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from the + shelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters as + natural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought all to + be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon’s + Encyclopædia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting it with + the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four men were + bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father’s room, and they + called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene of + confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore them to + the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay in + hopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in + despair upon the end of a sofa. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet,” said Solomon + John. + </p> + <p> + “Is not the carpet bought?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they were + obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had come + back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, “I shall + be back in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumes + of his Encyclopædia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a man lifting + a wardrobe. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. “I did not like to go and ask her. But I + felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the whole + matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Makillan’s” was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only one + all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed they + might prefer one from Boston. + </p> + <p> + The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to + Makillan’s to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But where + should they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr. + Peterkin’s “quiet hour”? + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were covered + with things. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks, + who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should get + something to eat at the baker’s. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to receive the + carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. After + all there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house, and + in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza stepped down the + front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to the door. But + it was locked, and she had no keys! + </p> + <p> + “Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + No, he had not seen them since the morning,—when—ah!—yes, + the little boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber + boots, as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some door + unfastened—perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, + each door, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat! + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with them,” + said Agamemnon; “or else go home to see if they left them there.” The + school was in a different direction from the house, and far at the other + end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys’ school, as + he proposed to do after their move. + </p> + <p> + “That will be the only way,” said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been + arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and not + come home at noon. + </p> + <p> + She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the carts + soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with the furniture? + Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she should need them to + set the furniture up in the right places. But they could not stop for + this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, in the garden, and + Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There was something from every + room in the house! Even the large family chest, which had proved too heavy + for them to travel with had come down from the attic, and stood against + the front door. + </p> + <p> + And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with a + wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Some + opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and Elizabeth + Eliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furniture appeared + to be standing full in view. + </p> + <p> + It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had been + to the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one of the + little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes. + Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrow + had waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept and + cleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there + would not be time enough to do anything. + </p> + <p> + And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the + furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a little place + in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and go home to + sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringing the + bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs. + </p> + <p> + In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had been + there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agony + about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how could it + be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainly could + not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left till the house + was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of one side. But + Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was to be moved without + being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips narrow enough to go + out. One of the men loading the remaining cart disposed of the question by + coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and carrying it on on top of his + wagon. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But what should + they do?—no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room table and + sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, and spoons here. + In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed; everything was + misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eat here and sleep + here, and what had become of the little boys? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packing + the dining-room china. + </p> + <p> + They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one + suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they should want + to take them next. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!” she + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkin + would be there for his “quiet hour.” And when the carters at last + appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed and + said, “There is nothing left,” and meekly consented to be led away. + </p> + <p> + They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in a + rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the opposite + barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken back with + him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side of the + house. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, the + floors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to stand + in a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,—there was + nothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had not come, + and although the tables were there they were covered with chairs and + boxes. + </p> + <p> + At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. It + contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same moment + appeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed all this + on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon John + came rushing in from the gate. + </p> + <p> + “The last load is coming! We are all moved!” he exclaimed; and the little + boys joined in a chorus, “We are moved! we are moved!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on the + parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza’s hat-box. The + parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed on the + parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and the + looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they were + moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + </h2> + <p> + CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The Peterkins had moved + into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where they would + have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of course they + would then have more time. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a long + time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when + she wanted to play on her piano. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. The + upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of the + door to the closet under the stairs. But the under table-cloth was kept in + a drawer in the closet. So, whenever the cloths were changed, the trunk + had to be pushed away under some projecting shelves to make room for + opening the closet-door (as the under table-cloth must be taken out + first), then the trunk was pushed back to make room for it to be opened + for the upper table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to push the + trunk away again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. This always + consumed a great deal of time. + </p> + <p> + Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find a place + in it. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house there was + no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept upstairs, which was + very inconvenient, and the volumes of the Encyclopædia could not be + together. There was not room for all in one place. So from A to P were to + be found downstairs, and from Q to Z were scattered in different rooms + upstairs. And the worst of it was, you could never remember whether from A + to P included P. “I always went upstairs after P,” said Agamemnon, “and + then always found it downstairs, or else it was the other way.” + </p> + <p> + Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the books all + in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking for them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. If they + went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. Elizabeth Eliza could + talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, German with the Germans; + Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish in Spain; + and perhaps he could himself master all the Eastern Languages and Russian. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all the + family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth Eliza + dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more willing. + </p> + <p> + Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always said she + would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, and she was sure + it did not look like it now. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something new every day, + and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a telephone, for they + had bridges in the very earliest days. + </p> + <p> + Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could be found + in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three could be brought out + in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for them, and could learn a little + on the way out and in. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. He was told + that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed they should all begin + with Sanscrit. They would thus require but one teacher, and could branch + out into the other languages afterward. + </p> + <p> + But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth Eliza + already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk it, without + much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of the side-stands. But + she found she had been talking with a Moorish gentleman who did not + understand French. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers came + at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they would be using + different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought something might be + learned by having them all at once. Each one might pick up something + beside the language he was studying, and it was a great thing to learn to + talk a foreign language while others were talking about you. Mrs. Peterkin + was afraid it would be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it was all + right. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they ought to have + foreign teachers, who spoke only their native languages. But, in this + case, how could they engage them to come, or explain to them about the + carryall, or arrange the proposed hours? He did not understand how anybody + ever began with a foreigner, because he could not even tell him what he + wanted. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and pantomime. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be done. + Elizabeth Eliza explained how “langues” meant both “languages” and + “tongues,” and they could point to their tongues. For practice, the little + boys represented the foreign teachers talking in their different + languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon John went to invite them to come out, + and teach the family by a series of signs. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they might + almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and trust to + explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not yet made, it + might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they were + invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to his mouth as + he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and it looked a great + deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than asking them to teach. + Agamemnon suggested that they might carry the separate dictionaries when + they went to see the teachers, and that would show that they meant + lessons, and not lunch. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for them, if + they had come all that way; but she certainly did not know what they were + accustomed to eat. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the + foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and they + might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys were + delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. Agamemnon had heard + that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the Germans, and he would inquire + how it was made in the first lesson. Solomon John had heard they were all + very fond of garlic, and thought it would be a pretty attention to have + some in the house the first day, that they might be cheered by the odor. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by her + knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons before the + Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + </p> + <p> + There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to obtain + teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He did not want to + be tempted to talk any English with them. He wanted the latest and + freshest languages, and at last came home one day with a list of + “brand-new foreigners.” + </p> + <p> + They decided to borrow the Bromwicks’ carryall to use, beside their own, + for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon drove into town to bring + all the teachers out. One was a Russian gentleman, travelling, who came + with no idea of giving lessons, but perhaps he would consent to do so. He + could not yet speak English. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several gentlemen who + had recommended the different teachers, and he went with Agamemnon from + hotel to hotel collecting them. He found them all very polite, and ready + to come, after the explanation by signs agreed upon. The dictionaries had + been forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which looked the same, and + seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian instead of + one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new teacher of that language + lately arrived. + </p> + <p> + But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian gentleman + into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for he was a Turk, + sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! They glared at each + other, and began to assail each other in every language they knew, none of + which Mr. Peterkin could understand. It might be Russian, it might be + Arabic. It was easy to understand that they would never consent to sit in + the same carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten about the + Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + </p> + <p> + Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But the + French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to go with him + in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For the German + professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As soon as the French + gentleman put his foot on the step and saw him, he addressed him in such + forcible language that the German professor got out of the door the other + side, and came round on the sidewalk, and took him by the collar. + Certainly the German and French gentlemen could not be put together, and + more crowd collected! + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word “Herr,” and he + applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the + other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither + of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr. Peterkin + with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian teachers behind, + vociferating to each other in languages unknown to Mr. Peterkin, while he + feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so he drove home as fast as + possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The Spaniard by his side was a + little moody, while the Turk and the German behind did not utter a word. + </p> + <p> + At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin and + Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her + shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful + to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the + library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and + Russian apart. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his + Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The little + boys took their copy of the “Arabian Nights” to the Turk. Mr. Peterkin + attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian dictionary, as + he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs. Peterkin was trying to + inform her teacher that she had no books in Spanish. She got over all + fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad, and she tried to talk a + little, using English words, but very slowly, and altering the accent as + far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed, looked gravely interested, and + was very polite. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the + Parisian. + </p> + <p> + She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But he + understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her vocabularies, + and went on with—“J’ai le livre.” “As-tu le pain?” “L’enfant a une + poire.” He listened with great attention, and replied slowly. Suddenly she + started after making out one of his sentences, and went to her mother to + whisper, “They have made the mistake you feared. They think they are + invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for our politeness in + inviting them to déjeûner,—that means breakfast!” + </p> + <p> + “They have not had their breakfast!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at + her Spaniard; “he does look hungry! What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How should + they make them understand that they invited them to teach, not lunch. + Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out “apprendre” in the + dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they found it means both to teach + and to learn! What should they do? The foreigners were now sitting silent + in their different corners. The Spaniard grew more and more sallow. What + if he should faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of his mustaches to + a point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian should fight the + Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the airs of the + Parisian? + </p> + <p> + “We must give them something to eat,” said Mr. Peterkin, in a low tone. + “It would calm them.” + </p> + <p> + “If I only knew what they were used to eating,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others were used to + eating, and they might bring in anything. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could make good + coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American dish. Solomon John sent a + little boy for some olives. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked beans. + Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled eggs, and some + bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every man spoke his own + tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to her. They + all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was fluent about “les + moeurs Américaines.” Elizabeth Eliza supposed he alluded to their not + having set any table. The Turk smiled, the Russian was voluble. In the + midst of the clang of the different languages, just as Mr. Peterkin was + again repeating, under cover of the noise of many tongues, “How shall we + make them understand that we want them to teach?”—at this very + moment the door was flung open, and there came in the lady from + Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + </p> + <p> + She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different languages! + The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together they called upon + her to explain for them. Could she help them? Could she tell the + foreigners they wanted to take lessons? Lessons? They had no sooner + uttered the word than their guests all started up with faces beaming with + joy. It was the one English word they all knew! They had come to Boston to + give lessons! The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English in this + way. The thought pleased them more than the déjeûner. + </p> + <p> + Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. The + first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to teach. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. + </h2> + <p> + AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a profession. It + was important on account of the little boys. If he should make a trial of + several different professions he could find out which would be the most + likely to be successful, and it would then be easy to bring up the little + boys in the right direction. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family occasionally made + mistakes, and had come near disgracing themselves. Now was their chance to + avoid this in future by giving the little boys a proper education. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From earliest + childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips of paper. Mrs. + Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She could not bear the idea + of his bringing one disease after the other into the family circle. + Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. He thought he might manage it + if he should not have to see his patients while they were sick. If he + could only visit them when they were recovering, and when the danger of + infection was over, he would really enjoy making calls. + </p> + <p> + He should have a comfortable doctor’s chaise, and take one of the little + boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he could get + through the conversational part very well, and feeling the pulse, perhaps + looking at the tongue. He should take and read all the newspapers, and so + be thoroughly acquainted with the news of the day to talk of. But he + should not like to be waked up at night to visit. Mr. Peterkin thought + that would not be necessary. He had seen signs on doors of “Night Doctor,” + and certainly it would be as convenient to have a sign of “Not a Night + Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his patients + who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger of infection. And + then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his prescriptions would probably be so + satisfactory that they would keep his patients well,—not too well to + do without a doctor, but needing his recipes. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, by a desire + he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only invent something + important, and get out a patent, he would make himself known all over the + country. If he could get out a patent he would be set up for life, or at + least as long as the patent lasted, and it would be well to be sure to + arrange it to last through his natural life. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been suggested + by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their new house. He + had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked it up in the + Encyclopædia, and had spent a day or two in the Public Library, in reading + about Chubb’s Lock and other patent locks. + </p> + <p> + But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be made + alike! + </p> + <p> + He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, Solomon John + said, with all inventions, with Christopher Columbus, and everybody. + Nobody knew the invention till it was invented, and then it looked very + simple. With Agamemnon’s plan you need have but one key, that should fit + everything! It should be a medium-sized key, not too large to carry. It + ought to answer for a house door, but you might open a portmanteau with + it. How much less danger there would be of losing one’s keys if there were + only one to lose! + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were out, + and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But Agamemnon + explained that he did not mean there should be but one key in the family, + or in a town,—you might have as many as you pleased, only they + should all be alike. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,—they could + keep the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the key of + her upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And Mrs. Peterkin + felt it might be a convenience if they had one on each story, so that they + need not go up and down for it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide about + the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one morning, they went + into town to visit a patent-agent. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady from + Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + </p> + <p> + “I have had a delightful call,” she said; “but—perhaps I was wrong—I + could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon’s proposed patent. + I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things are kept profound + secrets; they say women always do tell things; I suppose that is the + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “But where is the harm?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. “I’m sure you can trust the + lady from Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had + questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had suggested that + “if everybody had the same key there would be no particular use in a + lock.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you explain to her,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that we were not all to + have the same keys?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t quite understand her,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but she seemed + to think that burglars and other people might come in if the keys were the + same.” + </p> + <p> + “Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!” said Mrs. Peterkin, + indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “But about other people,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “there is my upper drawer; + the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,—and their presents + in it!” + </p> + <p> + “And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + considering. + </p> + <p> + Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know what the + lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza then proposed going + into town, but it would take so long she might not reach them in time. A + telegram would be better, and she ventured to suggest using the Telegraph + Alarm. + </p> + <p> + For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was provided + with all the modern improvements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. + Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since their experience the last + winter, when their water-pipes were frozen up. She had been originally + attracted to the house by an old pump at the side, which had led her to + believe there were no modern improvements. It had pleased the little boys, + too. They liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump all the + water needed, and bring it into the house. + </p> + <p> + There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner by the + barn. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the little + boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great fondness for + pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, that the well was dry. + There was no water in it; so she had some moss thrown down, and an old + feather-bed, for safety, and the old well was a favorite place of + amusement. + </p> + <p> + The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and “set- + waters” everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a + hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would be + summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to conceal from them + the use of the knobs, and the card of directions at the side was + destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first inventions to help this. He + had arranged a number of similar knobs to be put in rows in different + parts of the house, to appear as if they were intended for ornament, and + had added some to the original knobs. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a patent + for this invention. + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed sending a + telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was pleased with the idea. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she herself + would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write the telegram. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning,” she said, looking at + one of the rows of knobs. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had put three + extra knobs at each end. + </p> + <p> + “But which is the end, and which is the beginning,—the top or the + bottom?” Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin asked hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened with her + to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see the telegraph boy? + </p> + <p> + They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible noise was + heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the fire-brigade were + seen rushing at a fatal speed! + </p> + <p> + It was a terrific moment! + </p> + <p> + “I have touched the fire-alarm,” Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the fire-engines + were approaching. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be alarmed,” said the chief engineer; “the furniture shall be + carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Move again!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a telegram to + her father, who was in Boston. + </p> + <p> + “It is not important,” said the head engineer; “the fire will all be out + before it could reach him.” + </p> + <p> + And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon the roof. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more + necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + </p> + <p> + “Write a telegram to your father,” she said to Elizabeth Eliza, “to ‘come + home directly.’” + </p> + <p> + “That will take but three words,” said Elizabeth Eliza, with presence of + mind, “and we need ten. I was just trying to make them out.” + </p> + <p> + “What has come now?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried again to + the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the street. + </p> + <p> + “I must have touched the carriage-knob,” cried Mrs. Peterkin, “and I + pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!” + </p> + <p> + Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were assembling. + Even their own little boys had returned from school, and were showing the + firemen the way to the well. + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound arose. She + had touched the burglar-alarm! + </p> + <p> + The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, had + invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with a knob. A wire + attached to the knob moved a spring that could put in motion a number of + watchmen’s rattles, hidden under the eaves of the piazza. + </p> + <p> + All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those of the + neighborhood who had not before assembled around the house. At this moment + Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + </p> + <p> + “You need not send for more help,” he said; “we have all the engines in + town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the neighborhood; there’s + no use in springing any more alarms. I can’t find the fire yet, but we + have water pouring all over the house.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + </p> + <p> + “We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, who are + in town,” she endeavored to explain. + </p> + <p> + “If it is necessary,” said the chief engineer, “you might send it down in + one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing before the door. + We’d better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you women + might fill the carriages with smaller things.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself + with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice of + the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of the + hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched the + right knob. It was the fourth from the beginning; but the beginning was at + the other end! + </p> + <p> + She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind him her + father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and hurried toward them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where were the + flames? + </p> + <p> + He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? Who was + dead? + </p> + <p> + Who was to be married? + </p> + <p> + He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and read it + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Come to us directly—the house is NOT on fire!” + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + </p> + <p> + “The house not on fire!” he exclaimed. “What are we all summoned for?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a mistake,” cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. “We touched + the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy!” + </p> + <p> + “We touched all the wrong knobs,” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from the house. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with a few + exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines were heard + approaching. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one of the + carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was now nearly + ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought to send a telegram + down by the boy, for the evening papers, to announce that the Peterkins’ + house had not been on fire. + </p> + <p> + The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of flowers, + bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by the feet of the + crowd that had assembled. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his men to + order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. The collection of + boys followed the procession as it went away. The fire-brigade hastily + removed covers from some of the furniture, restored the rest to their + places, and took away their ladders. Many neighbors remained, but Mr. + Peterkin hastened into the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before he went + in, as to the success of their visit to town. + </p> + <p> + “We saw all the patent-agents,” answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow + whisper. “Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything to do + with it.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into the house. + She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she recalled some words + of Solomon John. When they were discussing the patent he had said that + many an inventor had grown gray before his discovery was acknowledged by + the public. Others might reap the harvest, but it came, perhaps, only when + he was going to his grave. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed him silently + into the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. + </h2> + <p> + THERE had apparently been some mistake in Agamemnon’s education. He had + been to a number of colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his + course in any one. + </p> + <p> + He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. It + was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always tried to + find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit upon the right + thing. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the elective + system, where you were to choose what study you might take. This had + always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “And how was a feller to tell,” Solomon John had asked, “whether he wanted + to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out awful hard!” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood up. He was + at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he would come out a + great scholar, because she could never get him away from his books. + </p> + <p> + And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the library, + reading and reading. But they were always the wrong books. + </p> + <p> + For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the Spartan + war. + </p> + <p> + This turned Agamemnon’s attention to the Fenians, and to study the subject + he read up on “Charles O’Malley,” and “Harry Lorrequer,” and some later + novels of that sort, which did not help him on the subject required, yet + took up all his time, so that he found himself unfitted for anything else + when the examinations came. In consequence he was requested to leave. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason that + Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was always asked the + questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; if the professors had only + asked something else! + </p> + <p> + But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the things + they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing to take for + students only those who already knew certain things. She thought Agamemnon + might be a professor in a college for those students who didn’t know those + things. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal,” she added, + “or they would not have asked you so many questions; they would have told + you something.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he had made + with some of his classmates. They had taken a great deal of trouble to + bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to make a bonfire with, under one + of the professors’ windows. Agamemnon had felt it would be a compliment to + the professor. + </p> + <p> + It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return from + successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled upon lofty + heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes after distant + adventures. As he plodded back and forward he imagined himself some hero + of antiquity. He was reading “Plutarch’s Lives” with deep interest. This + had been recommended at a former college, and he was now taking it up in + the midst of his French course. + </p> + <p> + He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in Lynn, + perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and glorify its + heroes. + </p> + <p> + For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in + consequence of going back and forward through the snow, carrying the wood. + </p> + <p> + But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor’s room, + and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the whole + institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his predecessor, + who gave him his name, must have regretted that other bonfire, on the + shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a daughter. + </p> + <p> + The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, after having + been in the institution but a few months. + </p> + <p> + He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding about the + hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly at ten o’clock, but + found, afterward, that he should have gone at half-past six. This hour + seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin unseasonable, at a time of year when + the sun was not up, and he would have been obliged to go to the expense of + candles. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever he could be + admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it might be found. But, + after going to five, and leaving each before the year was out, he gave it + up. + </p> + <p> + He determined to lay out the money that would have been expended in a + collegiate education in buying an Encyclopædia, the most complete that he + could find, and to spend his life studying it systematically. He would not + content himself with merely reading it, but he would study into each + subject as it came up, and perfect himself in that subject. By the time, + then, that he had finished the Encyclopædia he should have embraced all + knowledge, and have experienced much of it. + </p> + <p> + The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of every + subject that came up. + </p> + <p> + He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second column + of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. This led him to + the study of music. He bought a flute, and took some lessons, and + attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the piano. This, of course, + distracted him from his work on the Encyclopædia. But he did not wish to + return to A until he felt perfect in music. This required a long time. + </p> + <p> + Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was requested + to “see Keys.” It was necessary, then, to turn to “Keys.” This was about + the time the family were moving, which we have mentioned, when the + difficult subject of keys came up, that suggested to him his own simple + invention, and the hope of getting a patent for it. This led him astray, + as inventions before have done with master-minds, so that he was drawn + aside from his regular study. + </p> + <p> + The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career Agamemnon + had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of life, if he should + master the Encyclopædia in a thorough way. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a college + course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different Encyclopædias that + appeared. + </p> + <p> + There would be no “spreads” involved; no expense of receiving friends at + entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that it would not be + necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At all the times of his + leaving he had sold out favorably to other occupants. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John’s destiny was more uncertain. He was looking forward to being + a doctor some time, but he had not decided whether to be allopathic or + homeopathic, or whether he could not better invent his own pills. And he + could not understand how to obtain his doctor’s degree. + </p> + <p> + For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist’s store. But he could + serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it was found he + was not familiar enough with the Latin language to compound the drugs. He + agreed to spend his evenings in studying the Latin grammar; but his course + was interrupted by his being dismissed for treating the little boys too + frequently to soda. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The family had + been much exercised with regard to their education. Elizabeth Eliza felt + that everything should be expected from them; they ought to take advantage + from the family mistakes. Every new method that came up was tried upon the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and were just + able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now considered best + that children should not be taught to read till they were ten years old. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken from them + even then, they might forget what they had learned. But no, the evil was + done; the brain had received certain impressions that could not be blurred + over. + </p> + <p> + This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the public + schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling school, and joined + a class in music, and another in dancing; they went to some afternoon + lectures for children, when there was no other school, and belonged to a + walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin was dissatisfied by the slowness of their + progress. He visited the schools himself, and found that they did not lead + their classes. It seemed to him a great deal of time was spent in things + that were not instructive, such as putting on and taking off their + india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school and taught + by Agamemnon from the Encyclopædia. The rest of the family might help in + the education at all hours of the day. Solomon John could take up the + Latin grammar, and she could give lessons in French. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not want to + have the study-hours all the time. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should make their + life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at breakfast, and study + everything put upon the table,—the material of which it was made, + and where it came from. + </p> + <p> + In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study of music, + and from one meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have the assistance,” said Mr. Peterkin, “of Agamemnon, with his + Encyclopædia.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in + their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A. + </p> + <p> + “That would not be impossible,” said Mr. Peterkin. “There is Amanda, who + will wait on table, to start with—” + </p> + <p> + “We could have ‘am-and-eggs,” suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was + distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and + impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do was + to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers as they + could. + </p> + <p> + They could still apply to the Encyclopædia, even if it were not in + Agamemnon’s alphabetical course. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the + botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. The study + of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the butter-dish + would bring in geology. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the + cream-jug, and they were promised a potter’s wheel directly. + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear,” said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, “before many weeks, we + shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we might begin with botany. That would be near + to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the botany of butter. On + what does the cow feed?” + </p> + <p> + The little boys were eager to go out and see. + </p> + <p> + “If she eats clover,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall expect the botany of + clover.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that very + evening they should go out and study the cow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple breakfast. The + little boys took their note-books and pencils, and clambered upon the + fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + </p> + <p> + For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They were always + coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to count them, and + nobody was very sure how many there were. + </p> + <p> + There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She looked at + them with large eyes. + </p> + <p> + “She won’t eat,” they cried, “while we are looking at her!” + </p> + <p> + So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and seated + themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to time, to see + the cow. + </p> + <p> + “Now she is nibbling a clover.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is a bit of sorrel.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a whole handful of grass.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of grass?” they exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and pretending to + the cow that they were looking into the street, and yet to be looking at + the cow all the time, and finding out what she was eating; and the upper + rail of the fence was narrow and a little sharp. It was very high, too, + for some additional rails had been put on to prevent the cow from jumping + into the garden or street. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw six legs + and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys disappeared! + </p> + <p> + “They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the cow!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. Solomon John + and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but stopped, not knowing + what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered herself with a supreme effort, + and sent them out to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep the cow + out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the milking had gone off + with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps with the key of the shed door. + Even if that were not locked, before Agamemnon could get round by the + wood-shed and cow-shed, the little boys might be gored through and + through! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the druggist’s for + plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through the dining-room to the + wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. Peterkin mounted the outside of the + fence, while Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high enough + to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported what he saw. + </p> + <p> + They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the + little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving. + </p> + <p> + The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his + india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + </p> + <p> + Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the grass, + still looking at him. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were next + seen running toward it. + </p> + <p> + A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with + Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the time + they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the arms of + their mother! + </p> + <p> + “This is too dangerous a form of education,” she cried; “I had rather they + went to school.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. + </h2> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN’S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of the + three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the + educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at + school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon + the subject of education. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin’s spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys + were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were + arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could be + pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These were + planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently amused + himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + </p> + <p> + Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. + Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; that + many who could did not answer questions,—the conductors of the + railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations + on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “one might be a conductor without even knowing the + names of the stations, because you can’t understand them when they do tell + them!” + </p> + <p> + “I never know,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “whether it is ignorance in them, or + unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one station is + coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so many times. + It would be useful if they would tell.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in + Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the + place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have + the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the + conductors “to stop at the farthest crossing.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying + on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no + one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a + breakfast on educational principles. + </p> + <p> + A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken the + alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole alphabet + must be represented in one breakfast. + </p> + <p> + This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, Coffee, + Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice (on butter), Jam, + Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, Oatmeal, Pepper, + Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Veal-pie, Waffles, Yeast-biscuit. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. “Excellent!” he cried. “Every + letter represented except Z.” Mrs. Peterkin drew from her pocket a letter + from the lady from Philadelphia. “She thought you would call it X-cellent + for X, and she tells us,” she read, “that if you come with a zest, you + will bring the Z.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite the + children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a zest, indeed, + it would give to the study of their letters! + </p> + <p> + It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + </p> + <p> + “How happy,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “that this should come first of all! + A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had mastered the first + letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the more involved subjects + hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden in the apple. + There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss independence. The + little boys were wild to act William Tell, but Mrs. Peterkin was afraid of + the arrows. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, then + discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps first + historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first apple. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the griddles + were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at home on the + marmalade, because the quinces came from grandfather’s, and she had seen + them planted; she remembered all about it, and now the bush came up to the + sitting-room window. + </p> + <p> + She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where the + granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite recollected + why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it took you almost + the whole day to stew them, and then you might as well set them on again. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at grandfather’s. In + order to know thoroughly about apples, they ought to understand the making + of cider. + </p> + <p> + Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather’s, scarcely twelve miles + away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should not the family go this + very day up to grandfather’s, and continue the education of the breakfast? + </p> + <p> + “Why not indeed?” exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather’s would + give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard to the + cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, even to + follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + </p> + <p> + It was suggested, too, that at grandfather’s they might study the + processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: they were + both the products of trees—the apple-tree and the maple. Mr. + Peterkin proposed that the lesson for the day should be considered the + study of trees, and on the way they could look at other trees. + </p> + <p> + Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the present. + Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely be in a hurry for + dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day before them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for luncheon. + </p> + <p> + But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could hardly + take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as the little + boys did not take up much room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at grandfather’s. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object to + staying some days. This would make it easier about coming home, but it did + not settle the difficulty in getting there. + </p> + <p> + Why not “Ride and Tie”? + </p> + <p> + The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and Agamemnon + and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit in + the carriage, when it was waiting for the pedestrians to come up; or, she + said, she did not object to a little turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin would + start, with Solomon John and the little boys, before the rest, and + Agamemnon should drive his mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first + stopping-place. + </p> + <p> + Then came up another question,—of Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk. If she + stayed a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be hot, and + it might be cold. + </p> + <p> + Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her heaviest + wraps. + </p> + <p> + You never could depend upon the weather. Even “Probabilities” got you no + farther than to-day. + </p> + <p> + In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the + expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left the + table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself with Amanda + over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon went to + order the horse and the expressman, and Solomon John and the little boys + prepared themselves for a pedestrian excursion. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so many + things she might want, and then again she might not. She must put up her + music, because her grandfather had a piano; and then she bethought herself + of Agamemnon’s flute, and decided to pick out a volume or two of the + Encyclopædia. But it was hard to decide, all by herself, whether to take G + for griddle-cakes, or M for maple-syrup, or T for tree. She would take as + many as she could make room for. + </p> + <p> + She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must take some + French books she had never yet found time to read. This involved taking + her French dictionary, as she doubted if her grandfather had one. She + ought to put in a “Botany,” if they were to study trees; but she could not + tell which, so she would take all there were. She might as well take all + her dresses, and it was no harm if one had too many wraps. When she had + her trunk packed, she found it over-full; it was difficult to shut it. She + had heard Solomon John set out from the front door with his father and the + little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse at the side door, so + there was no use in calling for help. She got upon the trunk; she jumped + upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, found she could lock it! + Yes, it was really locked. + </p> + <p> + But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been caught + in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was worse, she was so + fastened to the trunk that she could not lean forward far enough to turn + the key back, to unlock the trunk and release herself! The lock had + slipped easily, but she could not now get hold of the key in the right way + to turn it back. + </p> + <p> + She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She called + for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the trunk. But her door + was shut. + </p> + <p> + Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the door, + to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, in her + constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she would have + been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her travelling-dress, and + too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. Alas, she had packed her + scissors, and her knife she had lent to the little boys the day before! + She called again. What silence there was in the house! Her voice seemed to + echo through the room. At length, as she listened, she heard the sound of + wheels. + </p> + <p> + Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear the + front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to “have the day.” + But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to Amanda, to explain to her + to wait for the expressman. She was to have told her as she went + downstairs. But she had not been able to go downstairs! And Amanda must + have supposed that all the family had left, and she, too, must have gone, + knowing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard the front + door shut! + </p> + <p> + But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she had + proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be + picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in + time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,—that she + had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon + discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not + finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed. + She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all her + books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She tried + to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family. They were + good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge. But suppose + they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge, as they often + did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them, her mother would + not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother should decide to + leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping and waiting for the + first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no one would be left to tell + the rest, when they should come up to the carryall. They might go on so, + through the whole journey, without meeting, and she might not be missed + till they should reach her grandfather’s! + </p> + <p> + Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman + would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get + into the house! + </p> + <p> + She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut up + in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not when she + should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the “Mistletoe + Bough.” She had been one of the “guests,” who had sung “Oh, the Mistletoe + Bough,” and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the side-scenes how + the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the trunk then was + only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa, and this was a + stern reality. + </p> + <p> + It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather’s. + Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy she + was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move the + trunk toward the door. + </p> + <p> + In vain. All was still. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why + Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with + Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things into + the carriage,—a basket of lunch, a change of shoes for Mr. Peterkin, + some extra wraps,—everything Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth Eliza did + not come. “I think she must have walked on with your father,” she said, at + last; “you had better get in.” Agamemnon now got in. “I should think she + would have mentioned it,” she continued; “but we may as well start on, and + pick her up!” + </p> + <p> + They started off. “I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to Amanda, but + we must ask her when we come up with her.” + </p> + <p> + But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond the + village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting manner against a + tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave missives for each other as + they passed on. This note informed them that the walking party was going + to take the short cut across the meadows, and would still be in front of + them. They saw the party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. + Peterkin was explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as + they stood around a large specimen. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a ‘Quercus,’” said + Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an expression, + but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of the party, however, + were behind the tree, some were in front, and Elizabeth Eliza might be + behind the tree. They were too far off to be shouted at. Mrs. Peterkin was + calmed, and went on to the stopping-lace agreed upon, which they reached + before long. This had been appointed near Farmer Gordon’s barn, that there + might be somebody at hand whom they knew, in case there should be any + difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had been that Mrs. Peterkin + should always sit in the carriage, while the others should take turns for + walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a fence, and left her comfortably + arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she had risen so early to prepare for + the alphabetical breakfast, and had since been so tired with preparations, + that she was quite sleepy, and would not object to a nape in the shade, by + the soothing sound of the buzzing of the flies. But she called Agamemnon + back, as he started off for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated in + the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth Eliza + gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have expected + that she—Mrs. Peterkin—would walk on to the next stopping- + place!” + </p> + <p> + She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest passed + her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting cheerfully. It was a + little joggly in the carriage, she had already found, for the horse was + restless from the flies, and she did not like being left alone. + </p> + <p> + She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, but the + sun became hot, and it was not long before she was fatigued. When they + reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to rest upon one of the + hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at the other end of the field, + and they were seated there when the carryall passed them in the road. Mrs. + Peterkin waved parasol and hat, and the party in the carryall returned + their greetings, but they were too far apart to hear each other. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall,” she said, “and that + will explain all.” + </p> + <p> + But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent + stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A note was + pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it was “prime + fun.” + </p> + <p> + In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. Peterkin + felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the carryall missed + her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a house to rest, and for a + glass of water. + </p> + <p> + She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The party + had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided all should + meet at the foot of grandfather’s hill, that they might all arrive at the + house together. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all the way, + as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. Peterkin’s last + walk had been so slow, that the other party was far in advance and reached + the stopping-place before them. The little boys were all rowed out on the + stone fence, awaiting them, full of delight at having reached + grandfather’s. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. + Peterkin, exclaimed: “Where is Elizabeth Eliza?” Each party looked eagerly + at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be seen. Where was she? What was + to be done? Was she left behind? Mrs. Peterkin was convinced she must have + somehow got to grandfather’s. They hurried up the hill. Grandfather and + all the family came out to greet them, for they had been seen approaching. + There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + </p> + <p> + It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin stood and + looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late to send back for + Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the object of + their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking up and down the + road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were explaining to each other the + details of their journeys, they had discovered some facts. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to go back,” they exclaimed. “We are too late! The + maple-syrup was all made last spring.” + </p> + <p> + “We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months,—the + cider is not made till October.” + </p> + <p> + The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of neither + maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, perhaps forever! The + sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin still stood to look up and down + the road. + </p> + <p> + ... Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, as it seemed for + ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of prisoners,—how they + had watched the growth of flowers through cracks in the pavement. She + wondered how long she could live without eating. How thankful she was for + her abundant breakfast! + </p> + <p> + At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to answer + it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was impossible! + </p> + <p> + How singular!—there were footsteps. Some one was going to the door; + some one had opened it. “They must be burglars.” Well, perhaps that was a + better fate—to be gagged by burglars, and the neighbors informed—than + to be forever locked on her trunk. The steps approached the door. It + opened, and Amanda ushered in the expressman. + </p> + <p> + Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the + breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she must receive. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the key of + her trunk, and she was released! + </p> + <p> + What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had given up all + hope of her family returning for her. But how could she reach them? + </p> + <p> + She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until she + should come up with some of the family. At least she would fall in with + either the walking party or the carryall, or she would meet them if they + were on their return. + </p> + <p> + She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took their way, + stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + </p> + <p> + But much to Elizabeth Eliza’s dismay, they turned off from the main road + on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver insisted he must + go round by Millikin’s to leave a bedstead. They went round by Millikin’s, + and then had further turns to make. Elizabeth Eliza explained that in this + way it would be impossible for her to find her parents and family, and at + last he proposed to take her all the way with her trunk. She remembered + with a shudder that when she had first asked about her trunk, he had + promised it should certainly be delivered the next morning. Suppose they + should have to be out all night? Where did express-carts spend the night? + She thought of herself in a lone wood, in an express-wagon! She could + hardly bring herself to ask, before assenting, when he should arrive. + </p> + <p> + “He guessed he could bring up before night.” + </p> + <p> + And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset were + looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about the lost + Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. A female form sat + upon the front seat. + </p> + <p> + “She has decided to come by express,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “It is—it + is—Elizabeth Eliza!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN BOSTON. + </h2> + <p> + THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about the carnival of + authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was announced, their + interests were excited, and they determined that all the family should go. + </p> + <p> + But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they supposed + that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza thought their lessons + in the foreign languages would help them much in conversing in character. + </p> + <p> + As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there would be + time to read up everything written by all the authors, in order to be + acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. Peterkin did not wish + to begin too early upon the reading, for she was sure she should forget + all that the different authors had written before the day came. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time enough, as + it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had given up her French + lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and had, indeed, concluded + she had learned in them all she should need to know of that language. She + could repeat one or two pages of phrases, and she was astonished to find + how much she could understand already of what the French teacher said to + her; and he assured her that when she went to Paris she could at least ask + the price of gloves, or of some other things she would need, and he taught + her, too, how to pronounce “garçon,” in calling for more. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might make + themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys were already + acquainted with “Mother Goose.” Mr. Peterkin had read the “Pickwick + Papers,” and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Longfellow getting into a + horse-car. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give lectures + upon the “Arabian Nights.” Everybody else was planning something of the + sort, to “raise funds” for some purpose, and she was sure they ought not + to be behindhand. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise funds + enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they could go + every night. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the funds + for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds enough they + might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and take the carnival + comfortably. + </p> + <p> + But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were authors, and only + authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had once started upon writing a + book, but he was not able to think of anything to put in it, and nothing + had occurred to him yet. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could come out + before the carnival he could go as an author, and might have a booth of + his own, and take his family. + </p> + <p> + But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an author. You might + indeed publish something, but you had to make sure that it would be read. + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled with + books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For herself, she + had not read half the books in their own library. And she was glad there + was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might know who they were. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a “Carnival”; but he + supposed they should find out when they went to it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed looking + over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some suitable dresses + there, and these would suggest what characters they should take. Elizabeth + Eliza was pleased with this thought. She remembered an old turban of white + mull muslin, in an old bandbox, and why should not her mother wear it? + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own grandmother. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the East, and + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John thought she + might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. Among the treasures found + were some old bonnets, of large size, with waving plumes. Elizabeth Eliza + decided upon the largest of these. + </p> + <p> + She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John was to take + the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was planning to enter upon + the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was a little afraid of + sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great while finding the shore. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a coal-hod + that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher Columbus was born in + Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian he had lately learned of his + teacher. + </p> + <p> + As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a happy + thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would come in play, + and he was quite sure that his own family name made him kin to that of the + great Czar. He studied up the life in the Encyclopædia, and decided to + take the costume of a ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and some of + the docks; but none of them gave him the true idea of dress for + ship-building in Holland or St. Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a + broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a costumer’s, and + with Elizabeth Eliza’s black waterproof was satisfied with his own + appearance. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in some + Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large bonnet, but she + had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs on their heads, and + she might wear her own muff. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of false + curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed over her + black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much like the picture + of their great-grandmother. But doubtless Cleopatra resembled this + picture, as it was all so long ago, so the rest of the family decided. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as represented in one of + the little boys’ arks, was simple. His father’s red-lined dressing gown, + turned inside out, permitted it easily. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a long dress of + yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the little boys. For the + little boys were to represent two doves and a raven. There were + feather-dusters enough in the family for their costumes, which would be + then complete with their india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher Columbus. He + had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his pocket, proposing to + repeat, through the evening, the scene of setting the egg on its end. He + gave up the plan of a boat, as it must be difficult to carry one into + town; so he contented himself by practising the motion of landing by + stepping up on a chair. + </p> + <p> + But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, as + Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if it were + not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to take an ark into + town as Solomon John’s boat. + </p> + <p> + The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the hall + late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as they stopped + at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found themselves entangled + with a number of people in costume coming out from a dressing-room below. + Mr. Peterkin was much encouraged. They were thus joining the performers. + The band was playing the “Wedding March” as they went upstairs to a door + of the hall which opened upon one side of the stage. Here a procession was + marching up the steps of the stage, all in costume, and entering behind + the scenes. + </p> + <p> + “We are just in the right time,” whispered Mr. Peterkin to his family; + “they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line.” The little boys + had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from one of the managers made + Peterkin understand the situation. + </p> + <p> + “We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I thought he was dead!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Authors live forever!” said Agamemnon in her ear. + </p> + <p> + At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage manager glared + at them, as he awaited their names for introduction, while they came up + all unannounced,—a part of the programme not expected. But he + uttered the words upon his lips, “Great Expectations;” and the Peterkin + family swept across the stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as + Peter the Great, Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon + John as Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. + Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. Columbus, and + the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + </p> + <p> + Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then following the + rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the audience, they went; + but into an audience not dressed in costume! + </p> + <p> + There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,—all the neighbors,—all + as natural as though they were walking the streets at home, though Ann + Maria did wear white gloves. + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea you were to appear in character,” said Ann Maria to + Elizabeth Eliza; “to what booth do you belong?” + </p> + <p> + “We are no particular author,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see, a sort of varieties’ booth,” said Mr. Osborne. + </p> + <p> + “What is your character?” asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I have not quite decided,” said Elizabeth Eliza. “I thought I should find + out after I came here. The marshal called us ‘Great Expectations.’” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. “I have shaken hands with + Dickens!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken hands + with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + </p> + <p> + They had been swept off in Mother Goose’s train, which had lingered on the + steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the procession of + characters in costume had closed. At this moment they were dancing round + the barberry bush, in a corner of the balcony in Mother Goose’s quarters, + their feather-dusters gayly waving in the air. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled herself + with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the grand closing + tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which swept her hither and + thither. At last she found herself in the Whittier Booth, and sat a long + time calmly there. As Cleopatra she seemed out of place, but as her own + grandmother she answered well with its New England scenery. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he found a chance + to enter a booth. Once before an admiring audience he set up his egg in + the centre of the Goethe Booth, which had been deserted by its committee + for the larger stage. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the Arabian + Nights. + </p> + <p> + It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going on + the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups represented + there. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the “Dream of Fair Women,” at its + most culminating point. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin found himself with the “Cricket on the Hearth,” in the + Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but always in the + Russian language, which was never understood. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every manager + was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to some other, and she + passed along, always trying to explain that she had not yet decided upon + her character. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand,” he said, “why none of our friends are dressed in + costume, and why we are.” + </p> + <p> + “I rather like it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “though I should be better + pleased if I could form a group with some one.” + </p> + <p> + The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join the + performers. It was the dance of her youth. + </p> + <p> + But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led to the + stage. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand this company,” he said, distractedly. + </p> + <p> + “They cannot find their booth,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “That is the case,” said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor,” said a polite marshal. + </p> + <p> + They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the + refreshment-room. + </p> + <p> + “This is the booth for us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it is,” said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + </p> + <p> + At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,—the little boys, who + had been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose’s establishment, and now came + down for ice-cream. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know how to sit down,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for I am sure Mrs. + Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. Shem, I will + venture it.” + </p> + <p> + Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon arranged in a + row, calmly eating ice-cream. + </p> + <p> + “I think the truth is,” said Mr. Peterkin, “that we represent historical + people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters in books. That is, + I observe, what the others are. We shall know better another time.” + </p> + <p> + “If we only ever get home,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “I shall not wish to come + again. It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it is so + bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going round and + round in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we shall never reach home,” said Agamemnon, who had been + silent for some time; “we may have to spend the night here. I find I have + lost our checks for our clothes in the cloak-room!” + </p> + <p> + “Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra’s turban!” exclaimed Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “We should like to come every night,” cried the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “But to spend the night,” repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “But never to recover our cloaks,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “could not the + little boys look round for the checks on the floors?” + </p> + <p> + She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might never see + again. + </p> + <p> + She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,—her grandmother’s,—that + Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have made into a foot-rug. Now how + she wished she had! And there were Mr. Peterkin’s new overshoes, and + Agamemnon had brought an umbrella, and the little boys had their mittens. + Their india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the character of + birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth Eliza a muff. + Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home in the cold + without them? No, it would be better to wait till everybody had gone, and + then look carefully over the floors for the checks; if only the little + boys could know where Agamemnon had been, they were willing to look. Mr. + Peterkin was not sure as they would have time to reach the train. + </p> + <p> + Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the time. + He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and he thought it + would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear it. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the strains of “Home, Sweet Home” were heard from the band, + and people were seen preparing to go. + </p> + <p> + “All can go home, but we must stay,” said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, as the + well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + </p> + <p> + A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at them, + whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + </p> + <p> + “Can we do anything for you?” asked one at last. “Would you not like to + go?” He seemed eager they should leave the room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the checks + for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor when + everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not describe what they + had worn, in which case the loss of the checks was not so important, as + the crowds had now almost left, and it would not be difficult to identify + their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin eagerly declared she could describe every + article. + </p> + <p> + It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the quickly + deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their garments! Mrs. + Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness of the marshals; she + feared they had some pretext for getting the family out of the hall. Mrs. + Peterkin was one of those who never consent to be forced to anything. She + would not be compelled to go home, even with strains of music. She + whispered her suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came hastily up to + announce the time, which he had learned from the clock in the large hall. + They must leave directly if they wished to catch the latest train, as + there was barely time to reach it. + </p> + <p> + Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss the + train! + </p> + <p> + If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She was + the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed her, just in + time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + </p> + <p> + The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of their + friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so they had many + questions put to them which they were unable to answer. Still Mrs. + Peterkin’s turban was much admired, and indeed the whole appearance of the + family; so that they felt themselves much repaid for their exertions. + </p> + <p> + But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their friends; + but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, they walked very + slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys were sent on with the + pass-key to open the door. They soon returned with the startling + intelligence that it was not the right key, and they could not get in. It + was Mr. Peterkin’s office-key; he had taken it by mistake, or he might + have dropped the house-key in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + </p> + <p> + “Must we go back?” sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. More than + ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon’s invention in keys had + failed to secure a patent! + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been allowed to go + and spend the night with a friend, so there was no use in ringing, though + the little boys had tried it. + </p> + <p> + “We can return to the station,” said Mr. Peterkin; “the rooms will be + warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think what we + shall do next.” + </p> + <p> + At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the New York + midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the train went through at + half-past. + </p> + <p> + “I saw lights at the locksmith’s over the way, as I passed,” he said; “why + do not you send over to the young man there? He can get your door open for + you. I never would spend the night here.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John went over to “the young man,” who agreed to go up to the + house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open the door, and + come back to them on his way home. Solomon John came back to the station, + for it was now cold and windy in the deserted streets. The family made + themselves as comfortable as possible by the stove, sending Solomon John + out occasionally to look for the young man. But somehow Solomon John + missed him; the lights were out in the locksmith’s shop, so he followed + along to the house, hoping to find him there. + </p> + <p> + But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young man had + opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and Agamemnon went back + together, but they could not get in. Where was the young man? He had + lately come to town, and nobody knew where he lived, for on the return of + Solomon John and Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of the + young man. The night was wearing on. + </p> + <p> + The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came and went + looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her turban, as she sat by + the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last the station-master had to + leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to lock up the station, but he + promised to return at an early hour to release them. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “if we cannot even then get into our + own house?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had left + town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and helped himself to + spoons, and left. + </p> + <p> + Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. Solomon + John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only ventured to whisper his + suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse Mrs. Peterkin, who still was + nodding in the corner of the long bench. + </p> + <p> + Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; perhaps + by some effort in the early daylight they might make an entrance. + </p> + <p> + On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his beat. He + stopped when he saw the family. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that accounts,” he said; “you were all out last night, and the + burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a lively + young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had been a + minute late he would have made his way in”—The family then tried to + interrupt—to explain—“Where is he?” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Safe in the lock-up,” answered the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “But he is the locksmith!” interrupted Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “We have no key!” said Elizabeth Eliza; “if you have locked up the + locksmith we can never get in.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he + understood the case. + </p> + <p> + “The locksmith!” he exclaimed; “he is a new fellow, and I did not + recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, + that he may let you in!” and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin + family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him,” said Mr. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the + house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he appear + so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in the closet + of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, and, almost as + soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released locksmith, and a + few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. + </p> + <p> + The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the + policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, + pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the family + could go in. + </p> + <p> + Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. + Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. “I shall never go to another + carnival!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. + </h2> + <p> + YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and + deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly + postponed. + </p> + <p> + But here they were at last, at the “Old Farm,” so called, where seaside + attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they were + to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of Ann Maria + Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them there, though + she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very next day. + </p> + <p> + Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole thing + had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be sure, had + not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, wonderful to + tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and + the volumes of the Encyclopædia that might tell him how to manage it, and + Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used their + india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and carrying + one in each hand,—a very convenient way for travelling they + considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their + boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat + inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room enough + could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted to them. + </p> + <p> + There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and camera. + Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of the machine + going off; so an out-house was found for them, where Agamemnon and Solomon + John could arrange them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and + low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little stuffy at + first. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the farm was + evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he gave himself to + examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and the fields and vegetable + gardens, which were shown to him by a highly intelligent person, a Mr. + Atwood, who devoted himself to explaining to Mr. Peterkin all the details + of methods in the farming. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, when + they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach the beach. The + advertisements had surely stated that the “Old Farm” was directly on the + shore, and that sea-bathing would be exceedingly convenient; which was + hardly the case if it took you an hour and a half to walk to it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies between the + advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; but he was more + than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to remain and admire it, + while the rest of the family went to find the beach, starting off in a + wagon large enough to accommodate them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the family in a + row on the beach; but he decided not to take his camera out the first + afternoon. + </p> + <p> + This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached the beach. + </p> + <p> + “If this wagon were not so shaky,” said Mrs. Peterkin “we might drive over + every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, and I suppose + Agamemnon can turn on the beach.” + </p> + <p> + “We should have to spend the whole day about it,” said Solomon John, in a + discouraged tone, “unless we can have a quicker horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we should prefer that,” said Elizabeth Eliza, a little gloomily, + “to staying at the house.” + </p> + <p> + She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant and + fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was disappointed that + the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would understand the ways of the + place. Yet, again, she was somewhat relieved, for if their trunks did not + come till the next day, as was feared, she should have nothing but her + travelling dress to wear, which would certainly answer for to-night. + </p> + <p> + She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses for this + very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would hardly need them, + and was disappointed to have no chance to display them. But of course, + when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria came, all would be different; but they + would surely be wasted on the two old ladies she had seen, and on the old + men who had lounged about the porch; there surely was not a gentleman + among them. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as gentlemen wore + their exercise dress, and took a pride in going around in shocking hats + and flannel suits. Doubtless they would be dressed for dinner on their + return. + </p> + <p> + On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals by + themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating dinner or lunch. + There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, that might come under + either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were well pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea we should have really farm-fare,” Mrs. Peterkin said. “I + have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first meal, as + evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in spite of the + numerous letters that had been exchanged. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment of + their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining to go to + the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and horses; and all the + way over to the beach the other little boys were hopping in and out of the + wagon, which never went too fast, to pick long mullein-stalks, for whips + to urge on the reluctant horse with, or to gather huckleberries, with + which they were rejoiced to find the fields were filled, although, as yet, + the berries were very green. + </p> + <p> + They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; but + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it + was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + </p> + <p> + On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the same + old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. + </p> + <p> + “A little seedy, I should say,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Smoking pipes,” said Agamemnon; “I believe that is the latest style.” + </p> + <p> + “The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable,” Mrs. Peterkin was + forced to say. + </p> + <p> + There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where they were + to be put, and as to their meals. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, who + were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them was + very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered from a + moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort of + factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of + invalids to appear. + </p> + <p> + “Regular bed-ridden,” Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza did + not consider respectful. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the house, + very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it in admirable + order. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and + ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and + tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted + that it was to be “tea,” and if they were unused to a late dinner they + might be disturbed if they had only provided a “tea.” + </p> + <p> + So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised when + Martha replied, “The lady must say,” nodding to Mrs. Peterkin. “She can + have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!” + </p> + <p> + This was an unexpected courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they took it a long time ago,” Martha answered. “If the lady will go + out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring us in what you have,” said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry. “If + you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps some eggs,” murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Scrambled,” cried one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “Fried potatoes would not be bad,” suggested Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t we have some onions?” asked the little boy who had stayed at + home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their supper. + </p> + <p> + “A pie would come in well,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And some stewed cherries,” said the other little boy. + </p> + <p> + Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, when, in + the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended appeared. Their + appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food the same. + </p> + <p> + “This is true Arab hospitality,” said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his juicy + beefsteak. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. “We have + not even seen the host and hostess.” + </p> + <p> + She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her when the + Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room was in + the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the aged deaf + and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by perplexed + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances, would + have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or the + Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to? She + fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both + parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any use in + sending to the Sylvesters’ usual address, which she knew well by this + time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would know + they had not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. + Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where people were + going to, and where to send their letters. She might, at least, write two + letters, to say that they—the Peterkins—had arrived, and were + disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she could add that their + trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their friends might look out for them + on their way. It really seemed a good plan to write. Yet another question + came up, as to how she would get her letters to the post-office, as she + had already learned it was at quite a distance, and in a different + direction from the station, where they were to send the next day for their + trunks. + </p> + <p> + She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the coughing + and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin partition. + </p> + <p> + She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by the + morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of fowl. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and + declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + </p> + <p> + They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach only + in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was appointed + at noon. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. “Such a straight road, and the beach + such a safe place to turn round upon!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the + station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably + left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been + switched off upon one of the White Mountain trains. There was no use to + write any letters, as there was no way to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now + almost hoped the Sylvesters would not come, for what should she do if the + trunks did not come and all her new dresses? On her way over to the beach + she had been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and + cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their time was + spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she would prefer + that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses and the trunks did. + All she could find out, from inquiry, on returning, was, “that another lot + was expected on Saturday.” The next day she suggested:—“Suppose we + take our dinner with us to the beach, and spend the day.” The Sylvesters + and Ann Maria then would find them on the beach, where her + travelling-dress would be quite appropriate. “I am a little tired,” she + added, “of going back and forward over the same road; but when the rest + come we can vary it.” + </p> + <p> + The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys remained to + go over the farm again. + </p> + <p> + They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a ledge of + sand. + </p> + <p> + They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of people + approaching from the other end of the beach. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last,” said Elizabeth + Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + </p> + <p> + As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria Bromwick! And with + her were the Sylvesters,—so they proved to be, for she had never + seen them before. + </p> + <p> + “What! you have come in our absence!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And we have been wondering what had become of you!” cried Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would be at the farm before us,” said Elizabeth Eliza to + Mr. + </p> + <p> + Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + </p> + <p> + “We have been looking for you at the farm,” he was saying to her. + </p> + <p> + “But we are at the farm,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And so are we!” said Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “We have been there two days,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “And so have we, at the ‘Old Farm,’ just at the end of the beach,” said + Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “Our farm is old enough,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Whereabouts are you?” asked Mr. Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + </p> + <p> + A smile came over Mr. Sylvester’s face; he knew the country well. + </p> + <p> + “You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over the faces + of all the party. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is the Poor-house!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “The town farm,” Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women there!” said + Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + </p> + <p> + “But we have surely been made very comfortable,” Mrs. Peterkin declared. + </p> + <p> + “A very simple mistake,” said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his amusement. + “Your trunks arrived all right at the ‘Old Farm,’ two days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go back directly,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “As directly as our horse will allow,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. “Your rooms are awaiting you,” + he said. “Why not come with us?” + </p> + <p> + “We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else,” said Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Do you suppose they + took us for paupers?” + </p> + <p> + “We have not seen any ‘they,’” said Solomon John, “except Mr. Atwood.” + </p> + <p> + At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + </p> + <p> + “I have been looking for you,” he said. “I have just made a discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “We have made it, too,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “we are in the poor-house.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you find it out?” Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been brought to + him from the station, which he ought to have got two days ago. It came + from a Mr. Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his wife + and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to say he + cannot come till Friday. Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the + Peterses, whom he had sent for the day we arrived, not having received + this telegram.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see, I see!” said Mrs. Peterkin; “and we did get into a muddle at + the station!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. “I beg pardon,” he said. “I hope you + have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you stay till + Mr. Peters’ family comes.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with an open + wagon, to take the Peterkins to the “Old Farm.” + </p> + <p> + Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, “Beg + pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and putting you in + that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to take you off every day + with the other gentlemen, that looked so wandering.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till Friday. + But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave with Mr. Sylvester, and + to take their electrical machine and camera when they came for Mr. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened once more + by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. There was not much + packing to be done. She shouted good-by into the ears of the deaf old + lady, and waved her hand to the foreign one, and glad to bid farewell to + the old men with their pipes, leaning against the porch. + </p> + <p> + “This time,” she said, “it is not our trunks that were lost” + </p> + <p> + “But we, as a family,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. 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